Presents
by Melora Maxwell
Summary: Rumble and Frenzy have been warned far too often that there are some things you just don't tell Ratbat about. Soundwave's getting ready to add 'Christmas' to that list...
1. Part 1

A/N: It's official; I have fallen prey to the upcoming schmaltz of Christmas, as have my Decepticon bad-boys.

* * *

Disclaimer: I would happily commit murder to own Transformers, sadly I don't. 'Tis the property of Hasbro and Takara. Most of this fic was inspired by the amazing Skippy list. I own none of it.

Also, there is just a touch of suggested robo-smut, but I'm not sure if it's going anywhere. Yet.

_Italics_ denote telepathy.

* * *

**Presents: Part 1**

* * *

Out of all the races in the universe his race had encountered, the humans easily possessed the greatest number of Decepticon traits.

And up until right now, Soundwave had never questioned Rumble and Frenzy's appreciation of most things human.

Video games were annoying, but they kept the twins amused.

WWF was somewhat tame by Pit-wrestling standards, but entertaining nonetheless.

But this…

The Communications officer sighed inwardly and stared at the little purple and gold blur frantically circling his subspace console, a red and white fuzzy hat perched lopsidedly on his tiny head.

_Christmas Christmas Christmas Christmas Christmas!_

Of all the elements of human culture the twins could've picked up and passed on to their most impressionable sibling, it just _had_ to be this one.

* * *

At times like this, the normally cool and logical Decepticon wished for the Chaos-Bringer to simply appear and consume him whole.

Unfortunately, Unicron had only ever seemed to make his contribution to Soundwave's existence when the twins had been sparked.

It sure as Pit explained a few things.

Ratbat was excited beyond all the normal boundaries of natural sparkling-hood as he darted back and forth in the air, twittering in glee.

_Rumble and Frenzy said about Christmas and how Santa Claus brings all sorts of presents and he has reindeer and it snows and pleeeeeease can we have Christmas? Pleeeeeease?_

Soundwave glared down at his eldest twins, who both gave him their best wide and oh-so-adorably-innocent optics.

'I recall a rule which I imposed on the pair of you with regards to introducing your sibling to new cultures, and new experiences within those cultures.'

Rumble downgraded his big-optics act to a sheepish grin. Frenzy's expression became somewhat fixed as he tried to make a fast exit.

Soundwave intercepted the red Cassette and plucked him up by the scruff of his neck, while all the time keeping his glare fixed on the blue twin.

'Please recite that rule to me, Rumble.'

'Awwwww, _boss_!'

'NOW.'

Rumble pouted and dropped his gaze. 'If it makes either of us giggle for longer than fifteen astro-seconds, we're not allowed to do it.'

'How long has the aforementioned rule been in place?'

Frenzy twiddled his thumbs as he hung from his creator's grasp. '5.6 million years?'

'And the reason?'

Rumble rolled his eyes. 'We told Ratbat the EMP mines outside Kaon were filled with energon goodies.'

He met Soundwave's glare with his own. 'It was funny at the time!'

Ravage cracked open one optic from his naptime perch in Soundwave's lap. _Yes, tremendously witty. I found the moment when you both onlined afterwards, specifically when Soundwave lost his temper and threatened to tear out your spark cores if you ever tried anything like that again, to be particularly droll._

'Hey, we didn't know Squeaky'd _believe_ it. And besides, he was fine afterwards!'

The Communications officer raised an eye-ridge before picking Rumble up by the scruff and holding both of the Cassettes at his optic-level.

'What are the _precise_ details that you informed Ratbat of, regarding this human celebration?'

Fluttering down to perch on his creator's shoulder, the little bat took the opportunity to answer the question posed to his brothers.

_They said there were trees and presents and Santa and reindeer and a baby squishy in a crate!_

Ravage rolled his optics. _Ah. All of the materialistic drivel then._

Soundwave didn't lessen his glare. 'I had warned you at that time that should you pass on any of your particular words of wisdom to your sibling ever again, both of you would be placed in separate sensory deprivation cells for three orns.'

The twins both squeaked in terror. Rumble sought and gripped tightly onto his twin's hand.

Not solitary. _Anything_ but solitary.

'However…'

A rare glint had entered the navy mech's optics.

'This 'Christmas' is of a considerably smaller physical or mental risk to Ratbat than some of your other findings on human culture.'

Ratbat chirruped in glee. He recognised the tone behind his creator's words. Soundwave didn't like it, but he couldn't find any good reason not to let it happen.

_So we can have Christmas?_

The tape-deck 'Con met his youngest creation's gaze and felt his spark wrench at the sweetly hopeful expression on the little bat's face. Denying Ratbat something was complicated at the best of times. When it came to anything his siblings enjoyed or approved of…

* * *

'No, no and _no_! It's a pathetic _fleshling_ holiday in which we _Decepticons_ should play _no_ part!'

Ratbat looked downcast and cuddled further into Soundwave's shoulder as Starscream strode about the command centre, optics wide in angry disbelief.

The Communications officer gently stroked his youngest creation's head and turned his attention to Megatron, who was watching the proceedings with a certain amount of bored interest.

'Starscream, button it. Soundwave, from where exactly did this suggestion occur?'

'Origin: Ratbat. Concept: explained by Rumble and Frenzy.'

The Decepticon warlord raised an eye-ridge. 'So, the dynamic duo strikes again, eh?'

'Affirmative.'

'And this would be the same Rumble and Frenzy who were both placed on punishment detail for attempting to trade military supplies for 'magic beans'?'

Ratbat giggled. Soundwave held back a long-suffering sigh. 'Affirmative.'

'The same Rumble and Frenzy who routinely insist that they require more suitable host bodies?'

Starscream let out an unimpressed snort. '_That_ could be _arranged_.'

Megatron ignored him. 'The same Rumble and Frenzy who were released from the repair bay only yesterday after spiking the Stunticons' fuel tanks with sugar?'

'Affirmative.'

The silver Transformer leaned back in his seat, a contemplative frown on his face.

'What were their motives?'

Soundwave raised his hands up to his shoulder and carefully lifted his youngest creation into his arms. Ratbat snuggled into his creator's hold and shied away from Starscream's revolted glare as Soundwave spoke.

'Their belief: Ratbat would enjoy the event.'

Megatron studied the little bat with a thoughtful gaze. Ratbat put on his most endearing expression, tempered with a healthy dose of fear as he met Megatron's inscrutable red optics.

'They still coddle the young one a great deal.'

'Rumble and Frenzy: both highly indulgent of Ratbat.' He sent a hard look in Starscream's general direction. '_All_ Cassettes: highly indulgent of Ratbat.'

The Air Commander didn't bother keeping the disgust out of his voice. '_You_ would ask our _Glorious_ Leader to divert _our_ troops' energies into _partaking_ in a _fleshling_ holiday _purely_ to keep a _bratty_ little flying _parasite_ happy?'

Megatron nodded. 'I believe he would, if purely to keep a highly trained and loyal Decepticon content, not to mention improving the currently non-existent morale. Since on this occasion, I believe the benefits appear to outweigh the risks, I will grant permission for this 'Christmas' to be held on the _Nemesis_.'

Underneath his face-mask, Soundwave smirked as Ratbat squealed in joy.

Starscream's hands twitched as he rounded on Megatron. 'You…y-you're _actually_ SANCTIONING this?'

The Decepticon commander nodded, smirking at the expression on his subordinate's face-plates. 'Provided it does not interfere with the war efforts, and provided there will be no physical or structural damage done to the ship.'

A nervous tic had developed under the F-15's left optic. 'Are your _neural_ circuits picking up _interference_ from CIA satellites _again_?'

As both Soundwave and his overexcited little creation made a discreet exit, Megatron's retort by way of fusion cannon could be heard throughout the command deck.

Followed with what sounded suspiciously like, 'Merry Christmas.' (1)

* * *

'Tinsel?'

'Check.'

'Lights?'

'Check.'

'Mistletoe and digi-cameras?'

'Check.'

Frenzy cracked his knuckles and grinned in delight as he surveyed the haul before him. If they were about to do Christmas, then they were doing it properly, Primus fraggit.

'Tree?'

'…I'm workin' on it.'

'Whaddya mean, you're workin' on it? C'mon bro, there's no point havin' all the shiny crap 'less we got somethin' to put it on.'

Rumble shot his twin a cynical look.

'Ya really think something green, live and squishy's gonna survive even five nano-klicks down here?'

'Okay Einstein, so what are we puttin' all the crap on then?'

'It's…well, TC said trees are vegetation, right?'

'Yeah…'

'And vegetation sounds like vegetable.'

'Uh-huh…'

'Vegetable means stupid in squishy terms…'

Frenzy was starting to lose what little patience he was sparked with. 'Is there a point happenin' anytime soon?'

'We just need somethin' big, green and stupid.'

'Forget it bro, Skywarp's never gonna let us paint 'im green and stick a fairy on his head.'

Rumble sighed and shrugged. 'Hey, s'just a thought. But ya never know, Screamer mighta liked it up there.'

Frenzy blinked. Why would…?

Oh.

OH.

He hadn't needed THAT particular mental image before his afternoon rations.

'…Just _get_ the slaggin' tree.'

'You're no fun sometimes, bro.'

* * *

''Kay, little to the left…little to the left…_other_ left, 'Saw…'

The yellow condor glowered at his older brother over a beakful of tinsel.

_If you don't want my help, then get up here and do it yourself. Oh no, I forgot, you don't have your anti-grav boosters thanks to you and Frenzy's last bout of utter idiocy._

Rumble snorted.

'Hey. One, prank-wars-battle-tag was Skywarp's idea. Two, no-one could trace th' glue and confetti back t' us. Three, tell me Dirge _didn't_ look good in pink.'

The aforementioned Seeker smirked and recommenced digging through the box of decorations for the mess hall.

'I still say blue woulda been better, but meh.'

Laserbeak rolled her optics as she tugged a piece of tinsel into place. _Speaking of utter idiocy, all of these decorations…_

Frenzy's disembodied voice warbled upwards from a box of holly. 'What about 'em?'

_They **are** all flameproof, correct?_

'Duh, 'course they are. Give us _some_ credit, 'Beaky. We ain't _that_ stupid.'

The red condor let out a small snort. _Call me 'Beaky' again, and I will personally remove your interfacing leads. Clear?_

Rumble was quick to shield his lower body behind a table. Frenzy opted to use the holly as a protective cover.

Skywarp settled with sniggering at the assorted siblings, and looped a few tinsel strands around his neck along with a holly wreath and some hanging stars.

'We nearly done here?'

The blue Cassette consulted his datapad. 'Couple of bits from Swindle need put up when he gets 'em in, but yeah, we're done here.'

'Sweet. And when do we get t'try the ener-nog?'

Frenzy plucked a wayward holly branch out of his aft-plates. 'We gotta try it on a couple o' guinea-bots first. It's still kinda in th' experimental stage.'

Skywarp sighed. 'How many drunk glitchmice do we have now?'

'Six. And still an improvement on the other eight. We've been workin' from 'dead' upwards.'

The black and purple F-15 thought for a few seconds, his face-plates screwed up in concentration. 'Guinea-bots…so we're looking for mechs who might appreciate the finer things in life, coupled with a death wish.'

Laserbeak swooped down and perched on Skywarp's left wing. _So you've only got 78 percent of the base to work through, by those criteria._

'Might _not_ kill them, and they might forge a brave new drink into the bargain?'

Buzzsaw narrowed his optics in thought as he glided alongside the group. _Down to 46 percent. Keep going._

'Expendable?'

_Too broad._

'Combiner?'

_Down to 10 percent..._

Rumble, unfortunately, was well ahead of all of them. He tapped his comm. link and smirked widely.

'This is the Cobalt Cassette callin' on all frequencies for the Pessimist Porsche! Dead-End, buddy! You wanna meet your maker or at least get fraggin' close to it?'

* * *

TBC

(1) Megatron is an absolute sod to write, so I hope I've done him justice.


	2. Part 2

A/N: No smitings for the Christmassy schmaltz! This can only be a good thing…

* * *

Disclaimer: Transformers – Takara and Hasbro. Me – nowt.

Credit also goes to the fabulous Lady Tecuma who let me use one of her ideas, and helped me thrash out some of the details. Thankies!

Also, the Cassettes are taking the rip out of the Nativity in the way that only they can. I've also probably got some details about said event wrong, but hey, I've tried. For anyone who might take offense to this – you know where the back button is!

_Italics_ denote telepathy.

* * *

**Presents: Part 2**

* * *

Perfecto.

Skywarp adjusted the holly wreath on his door, squinted, and quickly Hilti-gunned a few more nails in, just to be on the safe side.

This gave the tartan and gold bedecked decoration something of a post-modern-cum-steel-cum-BDSM motif, but better that than his newest piece of kitsch getting ripped off and used as the hoop in the next Conehead-hoopla game.

'So how's the Deadster?'

The heap of tinsel next to the F-15's foot shook slightly before Rumble's head eventually emerged.

'He got outta repairs an hour ago. Mixmaster reckons he's got the glitch in the ener-nog sussed, thank Primus. Probably coulda done without ol' Deady honkin' his tanks over Long Haul, but hey, Truck Boy's getting' kinda used to it.'

Skywarp looked almost contemplative. To Rumble's optics, it looked painful.

'Ener-nog _before_ or ener-nog _after_ Mixmaster's got his mitts on it? Which is more, I dunno, _fatal_?'

The blue Cassette grinned upwards. 'Nix on the fatal, 'Warp. He's tryin' it on the 'Structies first.'

'…Please tell me you put cameras in the repair bay?'

Rumble grinned and tapped a digit to his nose. 'Christmas may come early this year.'

Skywarp returned the grin in kind. 'Sweet.'

* * *

Ravage rested his head on his paws and frowned in curiosity as he watched his youngest sibling's latest activity.

_What **are** you doing?_

The little bat was sitting happily on the floor of the recharge quarters, surrounded with datapads, sheaves of paper, finger-paints and crayons. Ratbat looked up at his brother with a smear of green paint on his nose, an orange crayon in his paw, and his optics bright with excitement.

_I'm writing to Santa!_

The feline raised an eyebrow. _And __**why**__ are you writing to Santa?_

Ratbat chirruped. _Rumble and Frenzy said that squishy sparklings write to Santa and ask him for presents, and then on Christmas Eve, Santa sneaks down the chimneys and gives them their presents!_

_I'm spotting just a few flaws with this idea, but anyway…_

The purple-and-yellow Cassette pouted. _What flaws?_

Ravage raised a paw and counted off on his claws.

_One, we don't have a chimney. Two, I doubt Santa can survive underwater unless he holds his breath for a fragging long time. Three, you're a little too old to be considered a squishy sparkling._

Ratbat looked triumphant.

_Rumble and Frenzy said you'd say that. They said Santa's got squishy magic, so he can travel underwater and visit us without a chimney. And Soundwave says I'm growing older, but at spark I'm still a sparkling. So that must count with Santa!_

The black Cassette rolled his optics. It was pointless trying to argue with Ratbat when he had his CPU set on something. Soundwave could normally be counted on to keep his youngest creation's fantasies in check, but then again, this was a mech who still let Ratbat believe in the Dental Sprite.

He sighed and ran his glossa over a paw.

_So what exactly are you asking Santa for?_

Ratbat pushed a sheet of paint-encrusted craft paper in his brother's direction, and sat back in anticipation as Ravage scanned the requests, ruby optics flickering back and forth.

Lego; good choice.  
G. I. Joe figures; say nothing.  
Mauser BK-27 autocannon; intriguingly useful.  
Play-Doh…

Ravage glanced up.

_Play-Doh?_

The little bat chirruped again. _It's squishy and Soundwave likes it because it doesn't make messes in my wing joints or his finger joints!_

Ravage decided it was probably easier not to ask, and moved on.

Etch-A-Sketch; fair enough.  
RKG-3 anti-tank grenades; very nice.  
New Crayola box; always good…

The feline paused and squinted.

_I don't think this one's about to pass muster with either Soundwave **or** Santa._

Ratbat frowned and looked at the line where Ravage had stopped reading. _Why not?_

_Even if Santa could deliver you two B61 nuclear bombs, Soundwave would confiscate them immediately._

The purple and yellow Cassette pouted. _But I like things that make big explosions!_

_You **know** you're still too young to be playing with weapons of mass destruction. But perhaps Santa might be persuaded to get you a nice taser._

_I don't **wanna** stupid taser!_

_Tough._

Ratbat's pout grew steadily deeper as he yanked his list away from Ravage and daubed blue paint over his words.

_I'm telling Soundwave you were mean about my list._

Ravage sighed. _He will tell you exactly what I have told you._

'_Snot fair._

_Nothing is ever fair, little brother._

_Huh._

A brief silence descended over the room while Ratbat sulkily plopped black and red paint over a sheet of paper. Eventually, the mechanoid feline glanced at a somewhat innocuous looking box which Frenzy had dumped next to the main monitor earlier that morning.

He knew exactly what was in the box, and the traditions attached to it.

_Ratbat?_

The little bat glanced up, now covered in splotches of paint and with a hurt expression in his optics. _What?_

_Would you care to assist me in the strategic placement of mistletoe and digi-cameras in the refectory?_

A brief pause…

…_Oooooh._

Ratbat's faceplates lit up in glee. Ravage smirked.

* * *

'_Christmas_. I've heard some _stupid_ requests in my time, but _this_ one takes the fragging _oil_ cake!'

Starscream's rant had been going on now for the better part of an hour, and Soundwave was now seriously considering deactivating his audio receivers.

Judging by the Earth music he could hear through Frenzy's telepathic link while he monitored the security cameras, the red Cassette had long since given up even vaguely paying attention to the jet's tirade.

'There is now a _tree_ in the refectory, a slagging _tree_ for Primus' sake, _covered_ with enough _lights_ and _baubles_ to illuminate the _drive shafts_ on the north side of _Cybertron_!'

'Tree: part of festive tradition.'

'Festive _tradition_ for the _flesh-bags_. Mark my _words_ Soundwave, _that_ thing'll be a charred _mess_ in less than a _day_.'

The Air Commander shook his head in mock despair. 'If _I_ was Decepticon _leader_, this whole _mess_ would _never_ ha-'

_-Bzzt-_

Soundwave sighed inwardly in relief and subspaced his screwdriver.

Blissful, wonderful, _delightful_ silence.

Judging by the Air Commander's steadily more flamboyant gestures, he was well into his favourite bitch-session. The trick here was to nod occasionally and get Frenzy to keep a lookout in case Megatron appeared.

Speaking of which…

_Frenzy._

…'_Cause I just want you here tonight, holdin' on to me so tight, what more can I doo-ooo? Baby all I want for Christmaaaaaas is yooooouuuu-oooh…um, hi boss!_

_What in the name of Primus are you listening to?_

_Just a squishy singer, not bad huh?_

The Communications officer silently rolled his optics.

_Where are your siblings?_

Frenzy quickly scanned the bank of monitors and projected his thoughts outwards to his siblings. _Hmmm…'kay, the Blue Bolthead's just outta Repairs with th' ener-nog, the kittykat and Squeaky are stickin' mistletoe over the energon dispensers in the refectory, and not a clue 'bout 'Saw and 'Beaky._

On the monitors, Ravage glared at the camera above his head while Ratbat started giggling hysterically from his perch on a support strut, and Rumble turned towards the camera outside the repair bay and fired off his favourite one-fingered salute.

Inside the repair bay doors, Long Haul could just be seen slowly carting an unconscious Scrapper and a giggling Scavenger off to the spare recharge berths. Hook was slumped over his workbench, trying to aim a sedative into his secondary energon line and missing completely; Bonecrusher was cuddled under a workbench and clutching onto a leg for support, and Mixmaster, as was his duty as the only one even halfway sober, was recording the whole mess onto tape and visibly swaying.

Frenzy sniggered.

Right up to the point when he heard his avian sister's highly unamused voice enter the conversation.

_I **warned** you about that name, Frenzy. You must really want to be a robo-eunuch. Though I don't think you'll miss your interfacing leads too much considering you've never had a chance to use them._

The red Cassette let out a squeak of outrage at his sister's statement.

_Hey! I've had plenty o' chances! And I **have** used 'em before!_

_Hmmm. I still have the photographic evidence, and I regret to inform you that using them by yourself doesn't count._

Frenzy's protests quickly morphed into a stream of incoherent obscenities. Soundwave intervened.

_Laserbeak. Buzzsaw. Report your location and status._

Buzzsaw spoke up. _Location; St. Joseph's Church. Status; bemused._

* * *

_Why are you bemused?_

The yellow condor activated his internal camera and scanned the rows of seats below his and Laserbeak's hiding place.

_The squishies are building something down there. I've seen it before, but I have no idea what it's about._

Laserbeak squinted. _It looks like a shed, but there's a group of squishies and animals in there. All arranged around a crate with a baby squishy in it._

Back on the Nemesis, Soundwave ran the images through his processors until he found a suitable definition of the scene.

_The Nativity._

The twin condors glanced at each other in confusion. Buzzsaw frowned.

_What's the Nativity? Is it something that could be of use to us?_

The Communications officer held a small smile in check at the yellow condor's curiosity. A quick glance upwards from his computer confirmed that Starscream was still in full rant-mode.

He telepathically transmitted the images and the explanation to all of his creations.

_A scene from the human religious text known as the Bible. It depicts the birth of the sparkling of the Christian deity known as God. The sparkling is referred to as Jesus - born as a human, but still the offspring of a god. The two humans watching over the sparkling are his human creators._

Frenzy reluctantly looked up from his study of the refectory monitors - Blitzwing and Astrotrain were both poking the bushel of mistletoe above their heads with a certain amount of interest. Outside the refectory, Ravage and Ratbat were making their way back to the recharge quarters, matching smirks decorating their faceplates.

The kittykat would probably be getting taken down a peg or two later, but for now…

_OK, so this Jesus kid's got **three** creators? And why's he got a Mexican name?_

Soundwave sighed, and ducked as soon as he saw Starscream soaring headfirst across the command deck, ably assisted by Megatron's foot.

_I will explain later. Return to your duties._

* * *

The Communications officer glanced around his quarters at his assembled offspring as they settled themselves in for the evening.

Ravage had his muzzle in a saucer of warm energon, purring contentedly while Laserbeak and Buzzsaw took turns in sharing the contents of an energon cube on the desk.

Rumble and Frenzy were both armed with Cassette-sized mugs of the now considerably less toxic ener-nog, the blue Cassette leaning against Soundwave's leg while his red twin leaned against his side. Ratbat was snuggled in his creator's lap along with a pre-heated energon cube and a curly Santa straw.

'So, c'mon boss, spill. Nativity? Point of?'

Soundwave had heard the human expression of patience being a virtue.

Like so many of Rumble's virtues, patience had clearly been pawned off on the Cybertronian underground.

'As I informed you previously, the Nativity depicts the birth of the human deity known as Jesus.'

Frenzy raised an eye-ridge. 'Yeah, the Mexican dude, we got that bit.'

Soundwave sighed.

'The birth of Jesus was part of a prophecy recorded in the religious text known as the Bible. The humans believe that Jesus was sent by his creator to Earth to account for the sins of humanity. Thus he was created as a human.'

Rumble blinked. 'Kinda little t' be a martyr, ain't he?'

'The story is apparently retold to many human younglings. Most retellings leave out the more unappealing aspects.'

Ratbat stared up, optics wide and inquisitive. _Can you tell us the story?_

The Communications officer leaned back in his seat and cuddled his youngest creation to his chest while the others settled in to listen.

'The events of the Nativity took place several hundred years ago, in the Middle Eastern country now referred to as Israel. The deity known as God sent one of his messengers, an angel known as Gabriel-'

_What's an angel?_

'A powerful being, human in form, but with wings composed of feathers.'

At the look on Ratbat's face, Soundwave managed to find a suitable comparison in his CPU.

'Think of Gabriel as one of the Avatars of Primus.'

_Ooooh. Okay._

'Gabriel appeared to a young human femme known as the Virgin Mary, and advised her that she had been chosen by God to bear his creation, and as of that moment, she was carrying said creation.'

Ravage stretched and curled up next to Rumble. _Ah. So no pressure on the poor femme then._

Frenzy sniggered. 'Five second wonder, anyone?'

His youngest sibling looked confused. _What's a virgin?_

Soundwave ignored him and moved the narrative onwards. 'Mary was due to bond with a male known as Joseph. He was initially resistant to the idea of bonding with his intended while she was carrying the creation of another, but he was told by God in a dream to proceed with the ceremonies.'

Buzzsaw looked askance. _So the squishy was relying on a voice inside his head telling him to bond with the femme. Riiight. Am I the only one who can hear more than a slight whisper of insanity about these proceedings?_

His sister sighed. _You're not the only one. Please continue, Soundwave._

'At this period in Earth history, Israel was comprised of several smaller kingdoms known collectively as Judea, and was part of the ancient Roman Empire.'

Rumble grinned. 'Violent, backstabbin', murderous fraggers…those guys had style.'

_What's a virgin?_

Soundwave tried desperately to ignore Ratbat's question and continued. 'A census was decreed by Augustus Caesar, requiring many family units to return to ancestral homes to be registered. Mary and Joseph were required to travel to a town called Bethlehem to register-'

Frenzy shuttered one optic in thought. 'So it's sorta like us havin' t' register for the Decepticons in Kaon instead of Iacon 'cause _you_ were created there. Right boss?'

'Correct. Upon their arrival in Bethlehem, Mary was due to bear her sparkling. Her bonded requested sleeping quarters at an inn, but was told by the innkeeper that there was no place available.'

Rumble looked unimpressed. 'Bet it was the last time they went through _that_ travel agency.'

Buzzsaw nodded. _I expect they asked for a refund._

The Communications officer could feel a neural ache begin to pulse in his CPU. 'The innkeeper informed them that there was a stable available. Mary and Joseph had no choice but to stay there. A few hours later, Mary gave birth to the sparkling, wrapped him in bands of fabric, and laid him in a manger.'

Ravage tilted his head. _A manger?_

'A receptacle used to hold food for bovine or equine mammals.'

Ratbat looked worried. _The animals didn't try to eat him, did they?_

Soundwave cuddled the little bat closer and stroked a finger down his nose.

'No, they did not.'

_Okay. And what's a virgin?_

Buzzsaw did a quick mental tally of the names versus the number of humans in the picture within his memory banks. Something didn't quite click…

_So then who are the other squishies? Where do they fit in?_

Grateful for the yellow condor's save, Soundwave continued.

'On the night of Jesus' birth, the angel Gabriel appeared to a group of shepherds in the hills outside Bethlehem. They were told that a sparkling had been born who would become a saviour, also known as Christ.'

The blue Cassette grinned. 'How many of 'em freaked?'

'They were all initially disturbed, but then a choir of angels appeared in the heavens proclaiming peace on earth and good will to all men. The shepherds found the stable where the family were staying, and fell to the ground in worship.'

Frenzy smirked. 'Sounds kinda like they'd all had a lil' too much of the good stuff.'

Buzzsaw still looked dubious. _And the other three? The ones in the more elegant robes?_

'They are the magi.'

All of the Cassettes looked up in curiosity at the unfamiliar word.

'Three scholars from the East, known to most humans as the three kings, had followed a newly created star in the sky. They had predicted the birth of Jesus and had come to worship him.'

Ravage sniffed. _The stable's starting to sound like the refectory after an energon raid._

Laserbeak ruffled her wings and shuffled closer to her twin. _Following a star? That's just asking for trouble._

The ache in Soundwave's CPU was starting to pulse madly.

'The scholars had brought gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, all synonymous with Jesus' future life. Gold for a king, frankincense for a prophet, and myrrh for his death.'

Ratbat squeaked happily at the mention of gifts. _So were they his Christmas presents or his creation-day presents?_

The Communications officer paused. Yes, Christmas and creation day; Jesus had been the first…Ah.

'They were joint presents. Christmas and creation-day combined.'

Safe.

_What did Mary and Joseph get for Jesus?_

Not safe. Hmmm…

'Their gifts were not recorded.'

Safe again.

_You still haven't said what a virgin is._

Soundwave caught Ravage's gaze and glared as the feline smirked. _Oh, __**no**__ chance. You're on your own here._

Time to start stalling. 'I will explain when you are older.'

Ratbat pouted. _I wanna know __**now**!_

Laserbeak sniggered at her little brother's expression. _Just ask Frenzy._

Said Cassette's faceplates started turning an entertaining shade of puce. 'Aw, go stick a magnet in your databanks '_Beaky_.'

As the red condor launched herself at her equally crimson brother with a screech of death, destruction and very bad things, the rest of the Cassettes skidded onto the floor and formed an impromptu ring around the two combatants, cheering and howling all the way.

…

Unseen by all of them, Soundwave dug through the storage boxes under his berth for a neural relaxant.

The approaching festivities were helping him to understand just a little too well why some species of Earth animals ate their own young.

* * *

TBC


	3. Part 3

A/N: There's a slight deviation from Christmas, but trust me, all will eventually make sense. And yes, I bunged my OC in as well. Please don't kill me.

* * *

Disclaimer: I wish I owned Ratbat. Sadly I don't. Transformers – Hasbro and Takara. Me – Nightraider. That's it.

Nightraider will make a bit more sense if you've read 'Creations', but it's not vital.

_Italics_ denote telepathy

* * *

**Presents: Part 3**

* * *

Frenzy twiddled what was left of his thumbs, glanced over at his comatose twin, shuddered and resumed staring at the tinsel decorating the walls of the repair bay.

'This bites, chews _and_ swallows.'

Ravage shot his brother an exasperated look.

_We heard you the first time. Now shut your vocaliser._

'But I'm boooooooored.'

Laserbeak didn't even bother looking round from her place next to her stasis-locked twin.

_We can always do to you exactly what that idiot Autobot Combiner and his bootleg comrades did to Soundwave, Buzzsaw, Rumble and Ratbat…_

'…On second thoughts, I'm good right here.'

Ravage rolled his optics and painfully tucked Ratbat's old sparkling-blanket, Bo-bo, around his baby brother's unconscious purple and yellow frame. Laserbeak ruffled her still-healing wings and rested her head on top of her twin's golden chest.

The red Cassette tried to keep his optics averted from Rumble's berth, mostly due to the static build-up which caught in his vocaliser every time he saw the blue Cassette's injuries.

And Soundwave…

Frenzy shivered.

He'd only ever seen his creator look like that once before.

* * *

To say the last energon raid had not gone well was something of a spectacular understatement.

Intelligence reports on the Texan oil refinery had shown little in the way of human or Autobot security, and a massive stockpile of crude oil, which, when refined, created an impressive amount of high-grade energon.

The assorted Seekers, Soundwave and the Cassettes had been assigned for a lightning raid on the refinery. Get in, swipe oil-barrels, mock any Autobot who showed their face-plates, then retreat like half the Pit was on their heels.

Or at least, that was the Plan.

The Plan, however, did not take into account the presence of the Aerialbots, the Lamborghini twins, Blaster, Jazz and Prowl. It did not take into account the tiny fact that half the Aerialbots had never heard of the phrase 'targeting system', and it sure as Pit did not take into account the unfortunate and somewhat abrupt meeting of Soundwave, Thundercracker, the Cassettes, and several anti-aircraft missiles with a batch of spilled oil.

On the bright side, they had saved enough barrels to keep themselves fuelled for another few weeks, and the Autobots would probably be picking little bits of charred Lamborghini and Porsche out of their afts for the same amount of time.

Unsurprisingly, the Cassettes couldn't really see the bright side.

Soundwave had taken the brunt of the explosion in attempting to shield his creations. He was finally online after several hours of Hook's ministrations, his right arm and left leg all but vaporised. Half of his chest had been torn apart from shrapnel, and his paint-job was bubbled and warped from the heat of the fireball. His CPU and battle computer fortunately were undamaged, but it would be at least a week before he was in any fit state to leave the repair bay.

Rumble had lost most of his lower body, and was hooked into a life-support machine to stabilise his systems. He had woken up a few hours ago, just long enough to state a deep-seated wish to introduce the Aerialbots to five sets of energy bonds, a tank of water and several thousand volts of direct current.

Buzzsaw's more delicate flight systems had completely destroyed in the fireball. New parts had arrived from Cybertron, but until they could be fitted, it was safer for him to remain offline, much to his sister's distress.

Ratbat had been concussed while trying to help Frenzy drag Rumble to safety, and had become trapped in a pile of rubble. At the loss of his missile launchers and part of his right hind leg, Ravage had managed to dig his brothers out before Starscream had given the call to flee.

Someone, possibly Primus, was clearly out to get them.

If only because of what, or more accurately, _who_ happened to them exactly 48 hours after that.

Well, more to Frenzy than anyone else.

* * *

The black and red femme jet leaned against Frenzy's berth, her optics studying the red Cassette, and then the untouched vitamin-ore supplements on the side shelf.

'Okay, we can do this my way or…actually no, just my way.'

The red Cassette met the medic's glare with his own.

'I prefer _my_ way. It means no slagging ore supplements and thus no deliberate tank purge later on.'

Nightraider kept her glare steady.

''Zee? With my way, you get a choice. One way, you take the supplements with a nice drink of low-grade – I'll even heat it for you-'

'I choose the other way!'

'Ah-ah-ah. You haven't _heard_ the other way yet.'

'I still choose it!'

The jet smirked and removed a massive bottle of engine lubricant from her subspace. 'Then I suggest you flip over, stick your aft in the air and think some very warm thoughts.'

Frenzy's optics widened in horror as he clamped his hands protectively to his aft.

'I changed my mind, I want the first one.'

Nightraider shook her head in mock sympathy. 'Tough. You should've gone for option one at the start, 'Zee. And, ah, these supplements _can't_ be melted.'

'But I changed my _miiiind_! No! No! Offoffoffoffoffoffoff! Hands off my aft you degenerate femme!…WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHH!'

Courtesy of a highly amused Laserbeak, the red Cassette's wail of terror and the subsequent fight would be rewound and watched every Christmas for vorns to come.

* * *

The femme jet finished sterilising her hands as she glanced over at Soundwave's berth. The Communications officer was lying painfully still while Scrapper made the structural repairs to his chest compartment.

Despite the circumstances, he was grateful to see the one who had helped to online his creations so many millions of years previously. Any software or antivirus upgrades were entrusted to Hook, but otherwise, Nightraider was the only Transformer whom Soundwave trusted, other than himself, to repair or perform physical upgrades on his Cassettes.

Hence why she had been summoned from Cybertron, along with a few, rather bizarre, requests.

The Communications officer carefully tilted his head towards his colleague. 'Disagreement with Frenzy: terminated?'

Nightraider flashed a quick smile in his direction as she started prepping her tools for surgery on Buzzsaw.

'You'd be surprised at how few mechs feel inclined to argue with me _after_ the suppository's gone in.'

'Christmas present: unwanted by Frenzy.'

She raised an eye-ridge at the still unfamiliar term. 'And no-one's explained to me yet what this Christmas thing's meant to be.'

Soundwave briefly closed his optics in pain as Scrapper welded a support strut into place. 'Suggestion: ask Skywarp.'

'Isn't there another method? One that means I _don't_ have to leave the repair bay?'

'Cassettes: injured. Myself: unfamiliar with fine details of event. Thundercracker: unconscious. Skywarp: uninjured and was collaborating with Cassettes prior to raid.'

The red and black jet still looked uncertain as she batted a mirrored decoration out of her line of sight and watched the patterns the light cast on Soundwave's blistered paint.

'That still involves leaving the bay.'

Hook raised his head from his rewiring job on the comatose Thundercracker. 'Megatron guaranteed your safety in the base. Why are you so concerned?'

'_Megatron_ guaranteed my safety. _Starscream_? Not so much. And I did kind of tell him to bring it on the last time we met, so…yeah.'

Scrapper rolled his optics. 'Femmes. Do all of you have the ability to hold grudges or are you just a special case?'

Nightraider snorted as she finished cleaning a welding torch. 'I prefer to let my grudges die either of old age or via fusion cannon. Unfortunately, 'Screamer still hasn't fallen prey to either of these possibilities.'

The Constructicon front-loader groaned and waved a hand in the general direction of the repair bay door. 'Go. Refuel. Communicate. Agitate. Whatever. And keep your comm. link on.'

The jet slapped her comm. device as she headed towards the bay door. 'I'll bring the afternoon rations back with me.'

Her speaker buzzed as the door closed behind her. 'Hey 'Warp, you busy…?'

* * *

Soundwave lowered his optics and idly studied the damaged paintwork on his torso as Scrapper finished the patch-job on his side.

A week for him to recover, possibly longer for his creations to be able to leave the repair bay unassisted. Nightraider would be unwilling to leave until that prediction became a reality, especially considering her fondness of all the Cassettes…

'…Any reason she didn't apply for the front lines?'

The Communications officer glanced up at the surgeon. 'Refine parameters of query.'

'She's a trained medic, decent combat experience, seeker model…Megatron's always looking for troops with those specs, so why's she stuck on Cybertron with Shockwave?'

'Nightraider: prefers to create. Destruction: disliked unless necessary.'

'And yet she considers annoying the bearings out of Starscream as one of her hobbies.'

The navy blue mech smirked under his face-mask. 'Qualities in surplus: self-confidence and empathy. Known deficiencies: lack of common sense and extreme stubbornness.'

* * *

'I spy with my lil' eye…something beginning with…T!'

Ravage let his head drop against the berth and groaned.

No video-games, no book-pads, no sign of Soundwave in the immediate vicinity, no conscious Rumble…

The inevitable had happened. Frenzy had gotten bored.

And a bored Frenzy, as his siblings were only too painfully aware, was a fragging annoying Frenzy.

…_Tray._

'Nope!'

…_Tile._

'Nuh-uh!'

Laserbeak cracked open one sleepy optic and glared at her brother. _The inability to speak ever again if you don't shut your vocaliser this second?_

Frenzy returned his sister's glare. 'That's more than one word, 'Beaky.'

The red condor shut her optic and snuggled further into her twin's unconscious form. _Please just pretend I've threatened you and shut up._

'Not 'til you guess. Rav, guess!'

_Oh Primus, give me strength…tube?_

'Guess again!'

_I give up. What is it?_

'Tree!'

The feline glanced around the immediate vicinity and back at his sibling. _What tree? I see no tree._

'There's one in my mind!'

…_Frenzy. There is your mind, and there is reality. They seem to be worlds apart._

'Meh. If I imagine hard enough, maybe we'll get a Christmas tree in here. Right where my mind says it'll be.'

_Your mind also says that if you imagine hard enough, Elita-One will be writhing on your chassis demanding that you take her immediately. That doesn't mean it'll ever happen._

Frenzy folded his arms behind his head and grinned up at the ceiling. 'Maybe not, but it kills a couple o' hours.'

…_Laserbeak?_

The red condor opened her optics and shared a look with her feline sibling. _Hmmm?_

_Is there **any** way you can kill him from here and make it look like an accident?_

_It's incredibly tempting, but Rumble would miss him eventually. Besides, Motormaster's already staked a claim on the pair of them after that incident with the alligator eggs._

The black Cassette sighed and rested his head next to Ratbat's battered frame. _Well, it was a nice thought while it lasted._

_...Mmmh...?_

All of them heard it and felt the tiny psychic murmur.

The three Cassettes exchanged a glance and stared at their youngest sibling. Ravage was the first to move, carefully nuzzling Ratbat's cheek and watching closely as the little red optics came online.

…_Ravage…?_

_Yes, little brother. I'm here._

The purple and yellow Cassette flinched at the telepathic murmur, his face scrunching up in pain as his CPU came fully online.

…_I…hurt…don't wanna hurt…want…Soundwave…_

Laserbeak whipped her head round and nodded at her crimson brother. Frenzy smacked his fist against the berth-side comm. link, instinctively raising his mental shields. If Ratbat felt even half as slagging lousy as they did, this wasn't gonna be pretty.

Hook's voice crackled down the line, sounding deeply put-upon.

'…What _now_, Frenzy? And this better not be another request for a different coloured catheter bag or I swear to Primus I'll-'

The red Cassette didn't even get the chance to snark back in kind before Ratbat's wail of pain, confusion and general ouchies shattered the relative quiet of the repair bay.

And several audio receivers.

* * *

Ratbat's lower lip wobbled as he and Bo-bo cuddled into the undamaged side of his creator's chest.

_Will you be okay?_

Soundwave's optics softened. He pulled Ratbat out of his position in the crook of his arm and settled him on his chest.

'I will be at full operational capacity within the week. You must not worry. It will not aid your recovery.'

_What about Rumble and Buzzsaw?_

'Femme CMO Nightraider is currently resident in the base. She is due to commence surgery on their systems.'

The little bat thought for a few seconds, and remembered the feeling of a kind, ages-old spark pulsing next to his, just before a warm pair of arms picked him up and let him snuggle against his creator's chest…

He perked up at the memory.

…_She's the one who looked after me when I was a sparkling. She was nice!_

'She will be pleased to know that you recall her.'

_Is she going to fix you as well?_

'She will have enough to do with repairing you and your siblings. The Constructicons will be in charge of my repairs.'

_Okay. But are we still having Christmas?_

Soundwave's reply was cut off by a familiar teleportation sound, and the sudden appearance of a TV monitor with Skywarp's legs attached to the base. Leaning against the purple jet's back, Nightraider balanced a tray of ener-nog, energon cubes and a stack of videos with a certain amount of difficulty.

'-'ll love it, trust me!'

'Oh, how I've missed the sense of dread I get whenever you say the words, 'they'll love it, trust me'.'

Skywarp managed to dump the TV on a nearby trolley and looked slightly hurt at his fellow jet's words as he removed the videos from her grasp.

'The humans like all this stuff, and it's all on at Christmas, so it's gotta be tradition.'

'Notice the word 'human'. There is something of a difference between humans and Cassettes. Admittedly not much in Rumble and Frenzy's case-'

An irritated yelp rang out from the side ward. 'Hey!'

'-But I'm not having my patients getting fed more human slag than is absolutely necessary. Especially when they're healing up!'

Skywarp held up the two topmost video boxes as shields. 'But they're classics!'

''The Great Escape' and 'The Snowman'?'

The purple F-15 gazed at her with what he clearly thought was his most adorable smile, and what she thought was a visible dose of indigestion.

She sighed. 'Oh…_fine_. But only if Soundwave has no problems with it.'

Skywarp wilted slightly under Soundwave's gaze, but didn't let his grin waver as his optics met those of Ratbat.

'RB? You and the others want some vid-time? Cartoons, war movies and general explosions, take your pick!'

The Communications officer shared a look with the black and red jet, and then gazed down at the little bundle of bat and Bo-bo on his chest. Ratbat was transfixed by the sight of both the TV and videos, his optics sparkling with excitement.

Whatever Soundwave's youngest creation wanted, he would fragging well get.

* * *

TBC


	4. Part 4

A/N: Ratbat would like it to be known that he is an equal-opportunities bat when it comes to accepting snuggles. Make of that what you will.

* * *

Disclaimer: I own Nightraider, poor femme. Everything else is property of TakaraTomy and Hasbro. The Snowman is the property of Raymond Briggs; The Great Escape (which is always on at Christmas and which I have probably ripped to shreds) is the property of United Artists.

_Italics_ denote telepathy.

* * *

**Presents: Part 4**

* * *

Skywarp couldn't tell whether the look on his fellow jet's face-plates was caused by irritation, or the bundle of squalling bat in her arms, or possibly a combination of both.

The one thing he did know?

Nightraider was torqued off.

Mostly at him.

This was a cause for bad things to happen, most likely _to_ him. Or _bits_ of him.

''A Christmas _classic_', you said. ''They'll _love_ it, _trust_ me!' you said.'

In the red-and-black jet's arms, Ratbat doubled his wails, optical fluid streaming down his face.

The purple F-15 gave the femme his most adorable 'I've-been-your-friend-since-younglinghood-so-please-don't-kill-me' look.

Nightraider just glared and cuddled the little bat to her cockpit.

Skywarp started to whine in his defence. 'Aw, 'Raider, c'mooooon! I didn't know RB was gonna react like _that_ to 'The Snowman'!'

Soundwave was currently unable to comfort his youngest creation while Hook made the necessary repairs to his left arm and fitted his replacement right arm. All he was capable of doing was projecting as much comfort as possible into his telepathic link with Ratbat and shooting his filthiest glare at Skywarp.

'Ratbat: sensitive to death not caused through warfare.'

The F-15 groaned. 'Yeah, see, no-one let me in on that bit.'

Nightraider shook her head and turned her attention to the distraught little bat in her arms.

'Oh sweetspark, it's just a human story, it's not real, ok?'

Ratbat sniffled and stared up at the jet with watery optics. _Bu-but h-h-h-he m-m-m-mel-t-t-ted a-ll a-awa-a-y and t-t-th-th-a-a-t m-a-ade th-th-e sq-u-squishy a-ll s-a-a-d!_

'But the human still got to visit Santa, and he got a present from him, so he'll have that memory to make him less sad, won't he?'

_Y-ye-es…_

'And he'll be able to make another snowman and maybe even visit Santa again, won't he?'

The little bat snuggled further into the red jet's embrace. _Y-yes…_

'So he's sad right now, but soon he'll be happy again, ok?'

Ratbat nodded slowly and hiccupped. _O-k-kay._

Nightraider smiled down at her patient and gently rubbed the top of his cranial unit.

'There. Now, are you going to go back in with your brothers and Laserbeak?'

Skywarp perked up immediately. 'It's 'The Great Escape' next. RB, you'll love it, trust meee…'

He trailed off after seeing the looks on Nightraider's and Soundwave's faces.

'I'll…just…be…in there, 'kay?'

And he teleported out before the femme jet could cause harm to any critical bits of his chassis.

* * *

Frenzy glanced up from his carton of oil-covered puffed energon goodies as he heard the sound of Skywarp's teleportation warp.

'So how's Squeaky?'

The jet tried not to look too sheepish as he started loading The Great Escape into the VCR.

'I escaped with my interfacing leads intact, that's all I'm worried about.'

Ravage fixed the purple Seeker with a glare that could melt the hide of Unicron and let out a single guttural growl.

_Pardon?_

Skywarp squeaked like a new-built femme and backed up a few paces.

'I mean, um, RB's fine, seriously! 'Raider's looking after him; he'll be cool when he gets back in and watches a few explosions!'

The feline Cassette narrowed his optics and started grooming his paws. _He had better be._

The F-15 pointed at his face-plates and grinned. 'Hey. Is this the face of a jet who'd lie to you?'

Laserbeak raised an optic ridge. _No comment._

Frenzy smirked. 'Or no repeatable comment, at least.'

'I'll second that one.' Nightraider marched into the bay, Ratbat cuddled under one arm and sucking happily on a Santa-shaped energon-lolly.

She cuffed Skywarp over the head, eliciting a yelp of pain and a wounded expression from the purple jet before setting Ratbat down on his berth and wrapping his Bo-bo around his wings.

'That better, sweetspark?'

The little bat chirruped. _Lots. Can I have another lolly?_

The red and black jet chuckled and patted his head. 'Don't push your luck.'

Ratbat giggled and busied himself with getting comfortable in front of the TV.

Skywarp rubbed his head and pouted at his fellow jet. 'What'd I ever do to you?'

Nightraider sighed. 'I'd give you a list, but I have a condor Cassette in pre-op. Keep the explosions down.'

With that, she marched out. Skywarp sighed and started winding the video through to the start of the film. Ravage and Frenzy opted to watch out of shared boredom, while Laserbeak resumed her nervous study of the side ward doorway.

* * *

The red condor had every faith in Nightraider to repair her twin. It still didn't stop her constant fear that, one day, her brother might not be able to be repaired.

Buzzsaw had been wheeled into the operating bay shortly before the TV went on. While Ravage and Frenzy had been engrossed in the setting up of the monitor and videos, Ratbat had been the one to fly shakily across to Laserbeak's berth and simply snuggled in next to her, chittering softly and cuddling closer whenever she let out a sob of fear.

The roles had been quickly reversed as soon as Ratbat had seen the end of the cartoon and spotted the melted puddle of snow which had comprised the titular Snowman.

* * *

Ravage glanced over at the red condor, scarlet optics softening as he took in his sister's hunched posture.

_All will be well, Laserbeak. Buzzsaw will be healed, and he will soon be back at your side._

Laserbeak looked away from the door, her optics miserable. _I **know**. But…_

Her feline brother offered a rare smile. _Nightraider would never forgive herself if anything happened to us. And besides our well-being, she does have other interests that relate to ensuring the unity of our family…especially regarding our creator._

The red condor frowned. _Regarding Soundwave? What are you…?_

Her optics suddenly brightened. **_Oh_**_._

An almost mischievous expression lit up her face.

_I was beginning to wonder whether anyone else had noticed **that**._

Ravage shut his optics smugly and carefully ran his glossa over his battered claws.

_We share Soundwave's spark. Nightraider does hide it well, but if her spark is calling to ours, and ours to hers, picture if you will what **Soundwave's** spark is doing right now._

His sister went silent for a moment as she processed the concept.

_…Oh my._

_Indeed._

Laserbeak tucked her feet under her body as she settled down onto her berth, casting one last concerned look at the doorway as Skywarp concluded his battle with the VCR remote.

_This could prove to be quite interesting._

* * *

The Communications officer felt his spark twist as he glanced at the bolted door of the operating theatre.

Buzzsaw and Nightraider had been in theatre for over an hour, with Hook acting as supervising surgeon. Bonecrusher had taken over from his crane brother and was in the process of hammering Thundercracker's wings back into shape.

A chorus of laughter erupted from the side ward, dragging Soundwave's attention back to his conscious creations.

The Great Escape seemed to be more of a popular choice than The Snowman. As for the other videos…if they kept his Cassettes content, then he would be content.

It gave him a period of reflection while Scrapper was repairing the internal wiring in his chest compartment to evaluate his feelings towards the red and black jet.

He was fully aware of Nightraider's feelings towards him, and how his spark reacted when she was near. It had called out in kind to hers for over seven million years, and it wasn't likely to stop any time soon.

But the chances of either of them admitting their feelings to each other…

The Decepticons by nature did not do fidelity. Emotion was a sign of weakness, and weakness could be exploited. Relationships or bonding were almost unheard of in the ranks, and certainly none for the past few thousand years.

Soundwave had been one of the rare exceptions from the start, purely via the single-sparked creation of the Cassettes. His telepathic and mental control had been invaluable in hiding just exactly how much his creations, and his role as a creator, meant to him.

Of course, it was still known throughout the 'Con ranks that if anyone tried to harm the Cassettes, the wrath of Soundwave would be unleashed, and no-one had tried to provoke the telepath since that one incident in Kolkular. The one unfortunate mech who had simply thought about striking Ravage had been found in a barely functioning pile of parts, some still hot from being melted into slag. Ravage still had the victim's head as a chew-toy.

And Nightraider herself was hardly a weak and wilting femme, especially when it came to protecting herself and those she cared for. She was a crack shot with a sedative gun, and it wasn't just because of her programming.

Add to this that neither of them were particularly good at showing their feelings in general and the situation was destined to get slagged up.

Soundwave let out an inaudible sigh.

This had _not_ been part of his studies on how Christmas was meant to progress.

* * *

Frenzy was perched at the foot of his berth, an expectant grin plastered across his faceplates.

'Awww, no way! He's gonna try an' jump that fence, ain't he?'

His feline brother narrowed his optics as he watched Steve McQueen riding his battered motorbike up and down the German side of the barbed wire border with Switzerland.

_I believe he will certainly try. This could go either very well, or very badly._

Ratbat squeaked and clutched his Bo-bo in his claws.

_Do you think he'll make it?_

Skywarp, who had taken over Buzzsaw's currently empty berth, smirked and rested his hands behind his head.

'Squishies ain't exactly what you'd call aerodynamic, RB. But you never know, he could make it-'

His optics bugged as said squishy made the jump over the first fence.

'WHOA!'

Frenzy whooped. 'Awesome!'

Laserbeak cawed from her perch at the foot of Ravage's berth. _Impressive, for a squishy._

Her little brother let out a delighted squeal. _He's only got one more fence to jump!_

Ravage added his note of caution. _But that one fence is considerably larger and…what on Cybertron is he **doing**?_

His siblings and the reclining jet stared at the screen in bewilderment. The red Cassette's jaw dropped open and remained somewhere in the region of his knees as he spotted the hordes of enemy troops coming out of the army jeeps.

'OK, what the slag's he playin' at? Ya don't drive **towards** the Nazis!'

The F-15 made a few quick calculations. 'Unless he needs the run-up, and even then he's fragged in the processors if he thinks he'll make it!'

Ratbat wailed and looked away, covering his optics with his wings. _I can't watch, tell me what happens!_

Laserbeak took over. _Alright, alright, he's making the run-up, and the Nazis are after him…he's made a good burst of speed…he's going to make the jump!_

The sudden bang of a shotgun made the group wince.

Ratbat cautiously peered out from under one battered wing.

_…Did he make it?_

Skywarp's faceplates were screwed up in disappointment. 'Er…no.'

_Is he dead?_

'Again, no…but climbing outta that barbed wire's gonna hurt like the Pit.'

The little bat looked downcast for a moment, and then suddenly brightened up. _Maybe he'll make it next time._

Laserbeak shrugged. _Perhaps. As long as he gets cut out of that wire first._

* * *

The feline Cassette had heard that the score to 'The Great Escape' was highly regarded by the humans as an example of a high-quality motion picture soundtrack.

Having listened to the soundtrack courtesy of Soundwave, he was forced to admit that it was remarkably pleasant on the audios, in particular Elmer Bernstein's marching theme tune.

He had a distinct feeling however, that the composer had never been forced to listen a group of Decepticons loudly and tunelessly 'singing' along to said theme tune.

Lucky slagger.

Ravage buried his face in the berth mattress, placed his paws over his audio receivers and groaned.

_Laserbeak?_

The red condor glanced over, having disconnected her own audio receivers out of a long held self-preservation instinct. _No, I **don't** think they'll be finishing any time soon, and yes, we **will** be hearing them singing this for the next six months._

Her brother growled. _I never believed I would ever think this, but I am actually jealous of Rumble. At least he gets to miss this **travesty** of a sing-along._

_As does Buzzsaw._

Laserbeak's wings and head drooped once again, resulting in her completely missing Ravage's double-take, and the smirk that lit up his elegant faceplates.

_Perhaps not, dear sister._

The scarlet Cassette looked up and frowned for a second at her feline brother's almost gleeful expression. Ravage glanced at a point somewhere behind Laserbeak's back and midway between the floor and ceiling, and nodded.

A well-known and very welcome voice entered the conversation. _I believe I have a reservation here. Look under Buzzsaw._

Laserbeak's optics widened as she whipped her head round and felt her spark expand within her chest as she saw the mech she loved above all others perched on Nightraider's shoulder.

* * *

The femme jet reached up to her shoulder and gently patted the golden condor on the head. Buzzsaw let out a trill of contentment, immediately catching the attention of the assembled mechs sprawled out over the berths.

Frenzy's faceplates lit up in glee. 'Yo, 'Saw! Nice t' have ya back, lil' bro!'

Skywarp waved a lazy hand at his fellow flyer. 'Hey Buzzy, what he said!'

Ravage purred. _Welcome back, my brother. It has not been the same without you._

Ratbat squealed with delight through the link. _Buzzsaw! I missed you!_

Laserbeak remained silent as she watched the red and black jet place her fully repaired twin on the berth next to her. Nightraider fondly ran a hand over the younger femme's battered cranium and stroked her thumb down her beak.

'You make sure he doesn't fly for the next orn. I'm not having those wings of his getting stressed. And make sure you _both_ get some recharge, alright?'

The red condor nodded weakly, her optics staring to glaze over with lubricant. She managed to tear her gaze away from Buzzsaw long enough to stare up at the femme jet, unable to think or speak the words she wanted to.

Nightraider simply shook her head and smiled. 'You're welcome.'

She glanced over at Rumble's berth and sighed. 'Now we'll find out what'll happen once this one returns to the land of the conscious.'

Ravage shrugged and stretched his claws out as he yawned. _I estimate fifteen minutes of gratitude will be given freely. Then we will no doubt realise that him being online and fully limbed is the antithesis of all things good and pure._

Skywarp stretched his arms, tried to crack his spinal column, overbalanced, and keeled over the side of the berth. Sparing a moment to rub his aft, he started scrounging through the videos for some of his prized boxsets.

'I didn't think we did good and pure. Ain't those the kinda things the Auto-dolts keep preachin'?'

_I was being facetious._

Frenzy raised an eye-ridge. 'Yeouch. Think 'Raider's got a cream for that.'

Nightraider groaned as she connected various leads to the trolley's back up generator and disconnected the main power supply for Rumble's spark monitor. 'Primus, grant me the wisdom to understand what I cannot change, give me the strength to guide me in my work, and enlighten me as to the reason why I agreed to repair these little slaggers in the first place.'

Ratbat chirruped from his bundle of Bo-bo. _Because you love us?_

'...Fraggit. Found out at last.'

The F-15 turned slightly, two boxsets in his grip and a grin on his faceplates as he watched Nightraider wheel Rumble out of the ward. 'Does that mean you love _me_?'

The jet's words floated through the doorway as her wings vanished out of sight. 'I refuse to answer that on the grounds of dignity.'

'Awwww.'

He turned and held out the videos to Ratbat, Ravage and Frenzy. 'Okay, so 'Lethal Weapon' or 'Die Hard'?'

Frenzy emptied the last of his puffed energon goodies into his mouth and belched. 'Which one d'you think we'll like better?'

'No, I mean, which set d'you wanna watch first?'

* * *

Entertainment took second place in Laserbeak's list of requirements as she stared at her twin, optics glistening dangerously.

_...You nearly went away._

Buzzsaw fidgeted, his spark twisting as he took in his sister's expression and sensed the old fear in her thoughts.

His spark wrenched in pain that the thought of what Laserbeak had gone through. _No-one_ was allowed to hurt his sister, especially not him.

The golden condor let out a small caw of sorrow and shuffled closer to his twin.

_'Beak...Sis. Hey. I know it looked bad, but I'm not going **anywhere** that's away from you or the others or Soundwave. Okay?_

A flash of scarlet, and Buzzsaw's immediate vision was filled with his twin burrowing into his chest, her head buried against his neck and shaking from silent tears. He wrapped his wings around his sister and closed his optics.

_...I wouldn't **want** to go to the Matrix without you anyway. I'd get lonely._

Laserbeak let out a little twitter of reluctant mirth and simply curled closer in her brother's embrace.

* * *

'Buzzsaw: fully repaired?'

'He'll need to rest and let his wings recover from surgery, but otherwise I'm happy to sign him off as fully functional.'

Soundwave nodded and flexed the fingers in his newly-fitted right hand. 'Your work: much appreciated.'

'Well, it's my job...but thanks.'

Nightraider flashed the Communications officer a quick smile as she kept an optic on the blue Cassette's read-outs. 'However, will you still be saying that once Rumble regains the power of speech?'

'Rumble: vital to wellbeing of Frenzy and other Cassettes. Wellbeing of Cassettes: vital to myself.'

'And then your wellbeing would be vital to...who?' Nightraider pasted a fake smirk on her faceplates. 'Have you got a mech or femme tucked away somewhere that I've never met?'

She looked away and hoped that he hadn't picked up the flicker of jealousy that idea had produced. At the foot of the repair berth, Scrapper kept his optics firmly on the repairs to the tape deck 'Con's left leg and filed the exchange away for further analysis.

Naturally he sent his initial findings to the rest of the Constructicons first.

The navy mech remained silent, calculating his next words as he watched the femme jet and Hook finish their surgery prep. Nightraider's brisk actions made a sharp contrast to the Constructicon's smoother, more assured movements.

'Bondmate: none. Feelings of desire from crew of _Nemesis_: non-existent and unwanted if present.'

* * *

The crane surgeon was keeping his faceplates in a carefully schooled neutral expression, but there was more than a flicker of interest in his CPU with regards to the proceedings. Especially as the jet's movements became more fluid at Soundwave's words...and factoring in Scrapper's hypothesis...

_Oh_. Oh, now this _was_ intriguing.

Not to mention amusing.

He transmitted the additional findings and conclusion to his brothers in less than a second.

Christmas was about to get a _lot_ more interesting.

* * *

In the neighbouring berth, a bleary-opticed Thundercracker watched the exchange with no small amount of amusement and glanced up at a visibly entertained Bonecrusher.

'...You know that rule about no mistletoe or plant-life in repairs?'

The bulldozer nodded and smirked. 'I think that policy might be getting rescinded pretty slagging quickly.'

'Even if it means giving the Cassettes a Christmas tree in the ward?'

'Picking pine needles out of various joints for two weeks is immediately outweighed by the bribery possibilities and the amusement potential.'

The blue F-15 gave the Constructicon a deadpan look. 'You are a sick, twisted, masochistic dirt-dumper with no spark.'

Bonecrusher sniggered and punched the Seeker's arm. 'Awwww, TC. I never knew you cared.'

* * *

TBC


	5. Part 5

A/N: I warn everyone right now, I don't do straightforward romance because I know from painful experience that love is never that simple.

* * *

Disclaimer: Nightraider – mine. Transformers – TakaraTomy and Hasbro. I think that's pretty straightforward though!

_Italics_ denote telepathy/thoughts.

* * *

**Presents: Part 5**

* * *

_...Oooooh fraaaaaag..._

_Ow. Ow. And again, ow._

_...Ok, Bruticus, buddy, kindly get the fragging hell offa my head already..._

_Alright, alright, calm down man, calm down..._

_Right._

**Reboot...complete. Date...December 21st.**

_Ok, missing three days. No idea where they've gone, and lookin' behind the fridge for 'em ain't gonna work here._

_So what happened?  
Where am I?  
And who's aft is THAT?_

_Oooooh baby.__ Little to the left, little to the-_

_Now I **know **I've offlined and gone to the Matrix. Hubba._

_Don't think Primus'll mind if I just check out a coupla the goods on the way through..._

_C'mon baby, come ta Rumble, let me lay hands upon the wonderment!_

_...Ok, that's pretty solid._

_And attached to a femme.__ A **hot** femme.  
Seeker, red and black, kinda on the svelte side...  
Who's looking kinda...pissed?  
Wait a nanosec..._

_Nightraider?_

_Oh FRAGGING-_

* * *

'OWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWWWWW I'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEE!'

'YOU LITTLE SLAGGING BLUE DEGENERATE SPAWN OF UNICRON!'

Soundwave raised an optic-ridge at the verbal explosion from the operating bay, and smiled under his face-mask as he felt Rumble's spark and telepathic abilities both return rather abruptly to full capacity.

Scrapper barely raised his optics from his welding as the irate femme jet stamped out of the theatre. A fully repaired Rumble was hanging by his ankles in Nightraider's grasp, wearing his most apologetic/flirtatious grin.

'It was an honest mistake, 'Raider, c'mon!'

Nightraider hoisted the blue Cassette up to her optic level and glared electro-daggers at him. 'Grabbing my aft and giggling like a newly upgraded mech in a Kaon pleasuredome is NOT what I'd call an honest mistake!'

'I thought I was in t'Matrix!'

'And even if you were, you think that I'd ever let you near me like that, even in your wildest dreams?'

Rumble's expression shifted to deadpan. 'Harsh babe, _very_ harsh.'

He glanced past the red and black jet and spotted his creator reclining on a repair berth. The grin reappeared instantly.

'Hey, boss!'

Soundwave nodded at his errant creation. 'Rumble.'

The tape-deck 'Con directed his query at the femme surgeon. 'Creation: fully repaired?'

Nightraider glared back at Soundwave, her irritation currently overwhelming her claustrophobia. 'All repairs complete and may Primus have mercy on him, because if he ever tries to grope me again, his hands _will_ get welded to his own aft.'

'Instructions: understood.'

'Awww, _boss_!'

A well-aimed glare from his creator made the blue Cassette mute his complaints. But it didn't stop him making one last comment as Nightraider hoisted him up and carried him towards the side ward.

'Hey, it's an easy mistake t' make. C'mon, you're tellin' me that aft _wasn't _created by Primus?'

CLANG

Rumble rubbed his head from where the femme jet's free hand had smacked it. 'You just can't take a compliment, can ya?'

An evil little thought appeared in his processor, one that he and Frenzy had giggled over for a lot longer than fifteen astroseconds, and he voiced it.

Loudly.

'Bet you'd like it if _Soundwave_ said it.'

* * *

The resounding smack which echoed through the _Nemesis_ was later confirmed to be clearly audible up to the bridge.

* * *

'...Ok, little to the right...back a little...hey hey _hey_, can't see the TV!'

Long Haul fought down a tirade of insults as he followed Frenzy's instructions and shifted the oversized Scots Pine across the ward. Fragging Scrapper and his ideas, all this fuss and mess and letting the CASSETTES have their way about something, all just to see if their stick-up-the-aft Communications officer and a permanently fragged-off femme jet really did want to spark each other off for some ridiculous human holiday...

'Yo, Truck Boy, down in front!'

And having Skywarp egging them all on wasn't helping his generally crappy mood.

The haulage truck straightened up and shot the purple F-15 a glare that could strip paint.

'You know, Primus wasted a marvellous aft when he installed a vocaliser in your mouth.'

Skywarp paused, looked confused, and then shrugged.

'Whatever. And you're tippin' the bucket.'

Long Haul glanced down at the soil spilling over his feet and let rip with a few of his favoured profanities.

Ravage carefully placed a paw on each of Ratbat's audios and glared. _Less of the language if you please. __Impressionable younglings in the room._

The little bat giggled and looked round at his sister. _Is Long Haul right? Can you beat a mech into oblivion with the soggy remains of his right arm?_

Laserbeak groaned as she burrowed her head into Buzzsaw's shoulder. The golden condor sighed and gently patted his sister's back with a wing.

_You'll find out when you're older, shrimp. And don't tell Soundwave you know what that means._

He thought for a few seconds longer.

_More to the point, how **do** you know what that means?_

Ratbat gave his older brother what could only be described as a look of derision. _I asked Rumble and Frenzy. Were they lying to me?_

Ravage rolled his optics. _For once, no._

_Oh, okay!_

With that little piece of information clarified, all was well in the world of Ratbat.

* * *

Most of the conversation went straight over Frenzy's head as he studied the tree with a critical optic.

'Ok, hold it there, and turn it left...little more, little more...perfecto, leave it!'

His duty done, Long Haul growled and dumped a box full of tree decorations at the foot of the red Cassette's berth. 'Yours. Deal with.'

With that, he stomped out.

Skywarp grinned as he started digging into the box, tinsel and baubles soaring over his wings. 'Didja get any of those edible energon decorations?'

The haulage truck's words echoed back through the door. 'No such things exist, and even if they did, I'm not stupid.'

'Is that a maybe?'

A shiny red bauble clocked the F-15 in the face, courtesy of Frenzy. 'I'd call that a 'no, and get your big purple aft decoratin' already.''

'Remind me again why I can't just kill you?'

Ravage flexed his claws and smirked up at the jet. _Plausible deniability.__ And Nightraider would probably kill you first should you even consider trying it._

Skywarp sighed and dug through the box for the fairy lights. 'So I'm guessing Cassette-bowling's a no-no?'

A set of footsteps tapped against the tiles shortly before Nightraider appeared in the doorway, with Rumble still hanging upside down and complaining loudly.

'I _said_ I was sorry already!'

'I've shot mechs for _implying_ less than that!'

'And yet, you don't deny it.'

Silence prevailed for a few seconds.

'Oh yeah, I win.'

'You win _nothing_. Now get in there and _shut up_.'

Frenzy barely had time to look round from watching Skywarp untangle the fairy lights before his fully repaired twin was plopped unceremoniously next to him, still grinning widely.

'So it's a warm welcome back t'the funny farm then.'

Ravage offered his brother a nod. _Indeed. It has been...quieter without you. Unnervingly so._

'Yeah yeah, I love you too, Rav.'

The blue Cassette offered a wave to his younger siblings. 'Whassup?'

Laserbeak cawed. _Very little.__ You did miss some quite interesting movies however._

'Awww _man_.'

Buzzsaw glanced round. _We still have most of Die Hard and all of Lethal Weapon to work through. And ditto; it is good to have you back, brother._

Ratbat chirruped from his position next to Ravage. _I missed you too! It's nearly rations time and Skywarp's going to decorate our tree for us!_

Rumble tucked his hands behind his head and leaned back against the head of the berth. 'Hey, dinner and a show. Sweet.'

* * *

As Skywarp parked his aft on the floor and started testing the strings of light bulbs, Rumble gazed off to his left and frowned as he saw his twin sitting on the edge of the berth, facing away from the rest of the room and twisting the damaged remains of his fingers together.

He shuffled down the berth and settled next to his brother, leaning against the red Cassette's side while he studied his face.

Up close, he could see the minute tremors shaking Frenzy's frame.

'...Y'look like y'lost a wrestlin' match with Omega Supreme.'

The red Cassette risked a quick glance at his twin before he returned to studying his hands. He could already feel the static starting to choke his vocaliser, not to mention the fluid building up in his optical lubrication ducts.

He kept his voice to a murmur. 'Yeah...and I'm still better lookin' than you.'

Rumble moved closer, shielding both his and Frenzy's faces from view.

'Guess they ain't got round t' cleanin' your optics, huh?'

'Nah...still kinda blocked from all the dust.'

Blue fingers sought out and held their black counterparts tight.

'Yeah. Hate it when that happens. Slags up your vocaliser too; now that's a real bitch.'

The red Cassette didn't answer. He simply bit his lip hard enough to draw energon.

Rumble squeezed his fingers and leant his head against his twin's, pulling him closer as he saw the pale grey face draw into a pained grimace.

Two trails of optical fluid began to slide down Frenzy's face from under his visor.

_Aw, bro..._

The self-proclaimed Cobalt Cassette pulled his red brother into a tight hug, not caring if anyone saw him. In his arms, he could feel Frenzy trembling as he silently sobbed out all of his fear into his twin's shoulder.

_'Zee.__ Hey. I'm back, bud, and better'n ever. Y'don't get rid o'me that easy, huh?_

_...No. 'Cos if you went, I'd be right behind ya._

_Yeah, well...that's not gonna be happenin' for a long time yet, huh?_

Despite his tears, Frenzy let out a weak giggle. _Not til we get the boss laid, at least._

_Truer words were rarely ever thought, bro. And y'know somethin'?_

_What?_

The static build-up in his own vocaliser finally became too much for Rumble as he buried his face against his twin's neck.

_You ain't kiddin' 'bout the dust in here...makes y'wonder what the Structies're doin' half the time..._

Behind them, Nightraider cast a quick glance at the twins before she left, her optics softening as a smile appeared on her face-plates.

* * *

Soundwave shut his optics and sent a gentle pulse of reassurance through the bonds with his creations as he felt Rumble and Frenzy's lingering distress.

It would pass soon enough, and then normal service would resume as soon as Frenzy was fully repaired. Until then, he was content to let his Cassettes rest and recuperate as needed.

The rather sharp tug on his spark pulled him out of his thoughts as Nightraider sat down at the diagnostic computer next to his berth.

'All Cassettes: healthy?'

The red and black jet shot a quick glance at him. 'All of them are out of danger, if that's what you mean. I still need to refit Ratbat's wings and Laserbeak's primary weapons systems, but after that it's mainly joint replacement on Frenzy and Ravage, and cosmetic repairs on all of them.'

'Repair: duration?'

Nightraider exchanged a quick glance with Scrapper as he and Hook fitted the plastic tape-deck partition into Soundwave's chest.

'Another three orns, at most. As long as all their main systems are fixed then I'm happy to leave the rest to you and the Constructicons. It depends how long I have until Dreadnought and Shockwave need me back on duty.'

'Duty: cannot be ignored.'

The Communications officer mentally clamped down on the feeling of jealousy. Shockwave was of no real interest to him, but he knew of Dreadnought by reputation – a battle cruiser by alt-mode and a former engineering specialist at the Iacon Science Academy, he had become talented in weapons creation and deployment, and had personally fitted out the delivery systems on the _Nemesis_ before her ill-fated departure. The last he had heard, the engineer had been working with the cold-sparked Military Operations commander on some form of super-Transformer, but beyond that, the details were obscure.

That was not what concerned him. What _did _concern him however, was that the battle cruiser had a tendency to become highly protective of those he deemed to be 'his', and tended to make those feelings known to others with a short sharp blow to a critical area. Close proximity to the femme jet over the years would no doubt make her fall into said category.

'Your duties on Cybertron: urgent?'

Nightraider's hands twitched as her spark jumped. 'Not hugely; I've got a few experiments running but Dreadnought's keeping an optic on them. Most of the time, I'm just repairing the troops and keeping the Cobalt Sentries updated.'

The navy mech nodded silently.

He made a swift study of his frame – his missing leg and arm were both reattached, and bar some minor internal wiring in his tape-deck, his repairs were complete. Nothing would come of asking her to stay until _his_ maintenance was complete.

Perhaps it was time to be somewhat more...bold in his advances.

'Recommendation: remain on the _Nemesis_ until repairs to Cassettes are complete. Opportunity: to experience Christmas and to see the Earth.'

...Or maybe not.

* * *

Across the bay, the mostly-repaired Thundercracker rolled his optics. Next to the blue and black jet, Bonecrusher and Scavenger shared a long-suffering look as they overheard the Communication officer's proposal.

Looking down from his current job of fixing mistletoe onto a support beam, Long Haul raised an optic-ridge at Mixmaster as the chemist scrubbed down his work bench. '_That's_ the best he could come up with?'

'Not-not-not like he can just say 'frag it, I want to plug you six ways from Cybertron', can he?'

'...I would've been happy to go to the Matrix without ever hearing that sentence.'

'Tough-tough-tough slag.'

* * *

The femme jet looked down at her hands, excitement and disappointment making her holding tanks lurch. Not exactly the proposal she was looking for, but still...it was better than nothing.

'Well...if I clear it with Shockwave and Megatron, then I _could_ be persuaded-'

Unfortunately for Soundwave, the remains of Nightraider's reply were lost forever as the doors to the repair bay were kicked open, and a familiar screech filled the room.

'_Femme_! _Skywarp_! Front and centre _now_!'

* * *

Clearly, Starscream was not in one of his better moods.

* * *

The assembled mechs could almost _see _the black and red jet raising her verbal and mental shields. Nightraider glowered as she pushed herself away from the computer and stomped towards the Air Commander.

'One; I've still got two Cassettes to repair, so this better be good. Which leads me onto two; what exactly have I done to deserve _you_ getting inflicted on me?'

Starscream tried and failed to tower over her as he raked his optics over her frame. 'You should be _glad_ that I'm liberating you from such _menial_ tasks. And you are a Seeker _first_, medic _second_; you are under _my_ command and I will _not_ tolerate insubordination!'

'You _really _know how to charm a femme, 'Screamer. Over 40,000 vorns and I still can't say I've actually missed you.'

The F-15's glare transformed into a smirk in a spark-beat. '_Ah_, but can you say _that_ about fighting the pull of a planet's gravitational _field_, or feeling the _wind_ under your flanks as you _soar _above the groundpounders?'

Nightraider's intakes stuttered as she fixed on the silver jet's last words. 'The _wind_?'

Crimson optics met amber. Starscream's voice lowered to a purr as he closed the gap between himself and Nightraider, lightly brushing his knuckles against her face-plates.

'The _wind_.'

* * *

Soundwave unconsciously clenched his jaw at the spectacle before him. He could sense the femme jet's CPU whirling as she processed Starscream's words, her glare softening immediately and becoming almost...aroused.

He was aware from long association that the Seekers, out of all the Decepticon air forces, tended to get insanely twitchy when they were grounded. After any longer than three days, most of them would be holding back intense claustrophobia and paranoid tendencies to rival those of Breakdown unless they were allowed to 'stretch their wings', as the humans put it.

It would certainly account for the femme jet's mood swings over the past few days, but as for her sudden attitude adjustment to the Air Commander...

The Communications officer also noted that for two jets who seemingly despised each other 99 percent of the time, they were standing just a little too close together for his liking. Some space between them would be better.

Say...at least two light-years.

Ideally with Starscream situated in the middle of a burning supernova.

And heavily sedated.

With a vow of chastity on his part.

And his interfacing leads removed.

Preferably with something sharp.

Or rusty.

Perhaps both.

That seemed _perfectly_ reasonable.

* * *

Ignoring everything except the promise of open skies and the wind caressing her wings, Nightraider's smirk almost mirrored Starscream's.

'...We've got permission to leave?'

'We can be in the skies in two Earth minutes if _Skywarp_ would get his lazy _aft_ out of the playgroup and _report_ as I _ordered_!'

Nightraider glanced at the side ward doorway, did a double take and groaned.

'...Yeah, ah, Starscream?'

She nodded at a point just past the Air Commander's right shoulder.

Starscream glanced behind him, then pinched the bridge of his nasal unit and shook his head.

The purple F-15 was standing in the doorway, a sheepish grin on his face-plates, and his arms clamped to his sides as strings of twinkling multicoloured fairy lights twisted around his wings, head and thrusters. At his side, Rumble was holding the cord for the lights, his frame shaking with repressed sniggers.

'Um...little help?'

* * *

TBC


	6. Part 6

A/N: Yes, Soundwave is a tad useless at this whole 'making a move' thing; I've seen it so many times with most of my male friends.

* * *

Disclaimer: Original characters – mine, all others – TakaraTomy and Hasbro.

_Italics_ denote telepathy/thoughts.

* * *

**Presents: Part 6**

* * *

Earth had some distinctive perks.

Easily exploitable natural resources.  
Intriguing native species of animals, flora and fauna.  
A highly amusing dominant species.

But the benefit which outweighed them all, Nightraider was now certain, was the atmosphere.

An atmosphere meant clouds, and wind, and rain.

It meant freedom to stretch her wings, and find peace in the heavens as she felt the sun against her fuselage.

Unfortunately, it also meant Skywarp constantly teleporting in on top of his fellow fliers and ramming a handful of snow up their manifolds, but she needed some target practice.

* * *

Peeling away from Starscream's flank, the red and black jet dived and strafed Skywarp's afterburners with a round of machinegun fire, sniggering when she heard the F-15 start to curse loudly over the radio.

'If you want me that bad, you could just ask instead of firin' up my aft!'

'Where's the fun in that?'

The purple and black jet started to whine as he transformed to his alt-mode and pulled up level with his wing mate. 'You know I dent easily.'

A few hundred feet above, Dirge performed an effortless barrel-roll and barked with laughter. 'Awww, does the poor wickle sparkling have a boo-boo?'

Ramjet sniggered as he soared past. 'You could always kiss it better, 'Raider.'

Thrust flew alongside Nightraider's left flank, the leading edge of his right wing just brushing the flaps on her outspread left wing. 'Nah, we all know who _she_ wants to kiss better...'

The femme jet's growl of irritation was audible over the comm. link as she pulled her wings in and banked south. 'All of you can cram it up your afts sideways.'

Skywarp followed her lead and plunged into a cloudbank, emerging with fine wisps of vapour still clinging to his wings. 'Awww, you know you wouldn't have us any other-'

'If you would all kindly _zip your flaps_ and return your attention to _me_, you would _notice_ that you are _deviating_ from your _approved_ flight patterns!'

The Air Commander's screech brought the conversation to an abrupt end as he appeared alongside Thrust and Nightraider and steered sharply, forcing them to turn south-east.

Skywarp grumbled as he settled back into formation. 'What flight patterns? This was just meant to be a pleasure cruise.'

'Until Thundercracker returns to _active_ duty, we need an _active_ Seeker, one whose alt-mode has been _fully_ tested. Sadly, _this_ means the _femme_.'

A passing round from Nightraider's machine-guns streaked dangerously close to Starscream's fuselage.

'I _saw_ that!'

The red and black jet twitched her wings in what passed for an aerial shrug. 'This alt-mode seems to have itchy weapons. Deal with it.'

'_If_ you had scanned the _correct_ jet as I had _ordered_, you would _not_ be suffering from '_itchy_ _weapons'_ as _you_ put it.'

Nightraider growled, shifting slightly to the left as Starscream dropped back to cruise next to her. 'And as I've told you at least twice; my frame is smaller than yours, it's a different design and it was the only one which had the space for my weaponry.'

The red and silver jet snorted. '_Weaponry_. _Don't_ make me _laugh_. They're _radar_ scramblers. They're a _sparkling's_ weapons!'

'They are interceptor-class weapons, thank you so very fragging much! And the next time I have _itchy_ weapons, I'll be sure to aim them at your spark chamber!'

'Are you _threatening_ me, _femme_?...'

As the two jets continued to bicker, Thrust fell back as Skywarp moved forward to flank Starscream. The purple and black jet watched his wingmates for a few seconds, then opened a private comm. line to the other Seekers and sighed.

'Is anyone else getting a déjà vu of flight academy?'

* * *

The main monitor on the _Nemesis_'s bridge had been temporarily commandeered by the senior officers while they watched the two Seeker trines streak across the skies, courtesy of a rerouted NSA satellite holding position over the Pacific Basin.

Three VTOL-adapted F-15 Eagle jets banked left in perfect sync, following the vapour trails of the two unmodified F-15s and the smaller F-14 Tomcat as they cruised over the Hawaiian Islands.

Megatron quietly tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair.

'She's an elegant flier, fits in with the others.'

Behind the Decepticon leader, Soundwave tilted his head as he followed the femme jet's progress.

'Nightraider: highly competent in both flight and medicine.'

On the secondary monitor, the angular purple cranium and single golden optic of Shockwave studied the image while simultaneously calling up the schematics of Nightraider's new alt-mode.

'She has had little chance to fly this freely on Cybertron. I would suggest that you let her take advantage of this opportunity as much as feasibly possible before she returns.'

The silver Transformer turned to look at his Military Operations commander, amusement in his red optics. 'Is that concern for her wellbeing I hear, Shockwave?'

'More concern for her obedience. Nightraider has a...forceful personality, and like all fliers, she can be somewhat truculent if confined to base.'

'Truculent I can deal with, not mutinous.'

Soundwave's visor flared at his commander's words. 'Nightraider: loyal. No rebellious instincts detected.'

* * *

Making sure the action went unnoticed by Soundwave, Megatron silently chuckled at the spirited defence offered by his third-in-command. He was fully aware that within every rumour flourishing in the Decepticon base, there was at least a grain of truth.

In the case of the potential relationship between his communications officer and the Seeker medic, it seemed as if said grain of truth was actually a boulder of fairly hefty proportions.

Perhaps it was time to consult Swindle on the size of the betting pool currently running on the romantic potential between the pair. A little...outside interference on his part might prove to be both entertaining and highly profitable.

Not to mention finally ridding the two Decepticons of their...what did the humans call it?

Ah yes.

Unresolved sexual tension so thick that you could slice it, spread it with mercury and dip it in hot energon.

* * *

The image of Shockwave flickered as he nodded his head in agreement at Soundwave's words. 'Indeed she is, and her loyalty is not in question.'

'Then why ask of her wellbeing and interactions with the crew? Out with it, Shockwave. What has come up now?'

'...Space bridge repairs.'

Megatron growled and offlined his optics. 'Dare I ask what happened?'

'Damage sustained to the main controls during a routine maintenance check seems to have accidentally reset the default fusion settings along the inverse-'

The Decepticon leader held up a hand. 'In plain Cybertronian.'

'Whatever travels via the space bridge seems to be turned inside out upon dematerialisation. We could certainly transport Nightraider, but whether she would be online and her inner mechanicals **not** scattered across the void when she rematerialises would be a matter of sheer chance.'

Under his visor, Soundwave's optics widened in alarm.

'Chief Engineer Dreadnought is currently working to repair the damage. Estimated time for repairs is six orns.'

'Too long. Make it four orns.'

'My lord, it must be six. We have to allow for testing and recalibration, in addition to the time differences between Cybertron and Earth. It would be disastrous to risk a medic, let alone a femme, in untested conditions. Any adverse effects to her, or indeed to any member of the forces, would not be rectifiable.'

Megatron frowned slightly as he slugged back a mug of tepid ener-nog. Time differences, a medic-_femme_, adverse effects to-

Oh.

...Alright. This was serious if _Shockwave_ had noticed the situation, and on a universal par with the return of Unicron if the purple gun-former was doing something to rectify said situation.

One little part of his CPU was pointing out, in rather vulgar binary, that he shouldn't even be considering granting the extra time.

The rest of it quickly stamped on the rebellion, pointing out that some amusement over the next few days would be much appreciated.

Coming to a swift conclusion, and making sure to keep his thoughts from Soundwave, Megatron nodded in concurrence.

'Very well. You have your six orns. Make them count and keep me updated. Megatron out.'

The screen flickered and went dark as the silver Transformer turned to study his Communications officer.

'Inform Nightraider of the change in circumstances. She will continue to make repairs on the Cassettes and other troops as needed, and will fly patrols as required, but she will _not_ take part in any form of offensive action between now and the time of her departure. Unless said offensive action is against Starscream, in which case not only will she have my wholesparked support and gratitude, but that of the Empire itself.'

Soundwave snapped off a brief salute, his spark doing something closely related to a triple back flip at the knowledge that the femme jet would not be leaving the base any time soon.

Six orns. Just over six Earth days.

Christmas would be falling in four days.

He _had_ to make those days count.

* * *

On Cybertron, Shockwave's single optic dimmed in satisfaction to a deep gold. Silently reviewing the changes to his femme colleague's...situation, he turned away from his communications screen and stood up to view the repairs.

'If your calculations are not correct, Dreadnought, you do realise we will be forced to sit through another 40,000 vorns of their seemingly never-ending unrequited affection?'

From his station next to the space bridge entrance, the giant grey battle cruiser flipped up his welding mask and flashed a smirk at the purple gun-former.

'The only other option was drugging them both and sticking them in a holding cell until they worked it out. This way is more subtle. Different planet, a native holiday, new customs, an _atmosphere_...it's more romantic than back here.'

Shockwave narrowed his optic into what could, for him, possibly pass for a deadpan expression. 'Romance is both highly illogical and most impractical.'

Dreadnought sighed and returned his attention to his welding job, running a broad black finger down a cooling seam. 'Hmph. Speaks the mech without a single romantic relay in his chassis.'

'Romance does not keep the Decepticon Empire running without fault. _Logic_ does.'

'Yes, well, can _logic_ please make sure it keeps Crossfire _away_ from the space bridge controls in future?'

Both mechs shot a brief glance at a small playpen next to Shockwave's main console. Inside, a small lavender and silver gun-former mech sat on his aft, little legs sticking out in front of him and both hands clutching a battered cuddly cybercat to his chestplates. A look of sheer grumpiness radiated from his single amber optic as he stared up at his sire. (1)

'Just wanted to go see 'Raider.'

Shockwave let a small gust of air out of his vents as he settled back into his chair and called up his security programs.

'Unfortunately, logic does not seem to govern the actions of younglings.'

He raised his voice enough to catch his creation's attention. 'Even those who _have been warned_ about their behaviour on previous occasions.'

Crossfire's mutinous expression deepened. 'Want 'Raider back. She's nice. She gives me treats. You're _mean_.'

'And thus my point is proven.'

Dreadnought just shook his head.

* * *

'OK, someone remind me again why we can't just use a ladder for this?'

Hanging upside-down in Buzzsaw's grasp, Rumble made a swipe at the support beam with a tape-covered sprig of mistletoe and missed by several inches.

Frenzy simply raised an optic at his twin's actions and bit into an energon goodie. 'One, the 'Structies won't give us a ladder; two, said ladder won't reach anyway, and three; hey, you're doin' somethin' useful. Quit'cher bitchin'.'

'But all the energon's rushin' t'my processor.'

'So your CPU might drown. If the boss gets laid, ain't that worth a processor bath?'

'I'm gonna be too dead t'appreciate it!'

The red Cassette smirked upwards at his cobalt sibling. 'Bro, y'know I love ya, but this time...aw, suck it up.'

Rumble folded his arms and pouted, his face now flushed puce from the sudden rush of energon to his head. 'Bein' upside down's makin' me dizzy. If I hurl, it's _so_ gonna be at you.'

Laserbeak cawed in mirth. _Not with your sense of direction, you won't._

From his pile of blankets, Ravage carefully rolled over, making sure not to disturb a dozing Ratbat, and cracked open one scarlet optic. _I would make one recommendation, Buzzsaw - connect him up to the fire suppressant systems before he purges. We could have a water feature and some silence._

The golden condor chirped in mirth. _Not to mention an exhaust flush. It's not pleasant up here._

The blue Cassette made another attempt at kicking his avian brother. Failing that, he settled for glaring down at his reclining siblings, all bar Ratbat smirking and sniggering in equal measure. 'I despise you all.'

* * *

The combined feelings of schadenfreude and mock irritation filtered through the telepathic link into Ratbat's CPU even as he dreamed.

He let out a small sleepy chirrup in response and burrowed closer into Ravage's flank, just about registering the careful touch of a warm feline muzzle against his nose, and a small lick of affection between his ears before the warm weight settled against his head.

Ravage was there. Ravage would protect him when Soundwave wasn't there.

Carefully, the little bat reached into the link and searched for his creator's spark, as he had done so often since they had been reanimated on Earth.

...There!

In his mind, Ratbat chittered in delight as he felt Soundwave's presence focussing the link; an immeasurably strong mind and spark, his mental whispers always coloured with pride at his creations and his loyalty to the Decepticon cause.

He was solid, safe and warm, while keeping his distance from all those who didn't share in the peace of the link.

Underneath that strength however was the unwelcome emotion that the little bat and all of his siblings were painfully aware of, and could do nothing to help him with.

His loneliness.

Ratbat, when he had first felt the undercurrent, had no idea what it was. Having been sparked as the beloved baby out of a hugely protective family unit of six, he could count the number of times he had felt isolated on one tiny paw and still have five claws left over.

Rumble and Frenzy were always there to repeat the ship's gossip and to play with him, and he was often drafted in as a willing accomplice and lookout whenever a prank was in motion.

Laserbeak and Buzzsaw took him flying, both of them forever patient, forever loving, always acting as his wingmates and playmates in the skies.

And Ravage...cunning, vicious, cynical, morbid feline that he was, would forever act as the beloved protector, teacher and willing provider of snuggles to his baby brother.

The only way the little bat knew about loneliness was directly through the link, and the love of Soundwave's spark.

And he didn't like it at all. He liked it even less after Ravage had told him that the loneliness had been even worse for their creator before he had chosen to bring them all online.

But now...Nightraider's presence had softened that horrible sensation massively. And Soundwave was happy with her here.

So...

The little bat took care to keep his thoughts to himself while he latched onto his creator's emotional centre.

If the femme jet made his creator happy, then they had to be together. Sparkbond if they had to!

Soundwave had obviously had the same idea, since his loneliness was being tempered with a sensation that Ratbat knew well.

Plotting.

He eased himself away from the emotions and back into the link, and reached out for his creator's thoughts.

Yes, Soundwave was plotting something as he waited for the two Seeker trines to return to base, his thoughts mixed with need and jealousy.

And something else...

He'd felt it before, quite often from Rumble and Frenzy when they were plotting something.

He knew what it was, he just couldn't quite...

Oh.

Oh no.

* * *

Ratbat let out a squeak as his optics snapped open and he pulled away from his brother's side. Buzzsaw jerked at the noise, his grip on Rumble's legs loosening enough for the blue Cassette to plummet downwards.

Fast.

_Ratbat?_

Ravage was leaning over him, ruby optics wide with concern. Frenzy too was leaning over, rare worry etched on his grey faceplates. Across from him, Laserbeak's head had whipped round in fear at the sudden squeak.

_What ails you, little glitchmouse?_

The purple and yellow Cassette twitched his wings and stared at his siblings in worry, all of them studiously ignoring the crash and subsequent stream of obscenities Rumble was directing at his hovering golden sibling.

_I think Soundwave's gonna do something really stupid._

* * *

TBC

(1) More on this little guy later. And I can't be the _only_ person who's thought of this.


	7. Part 7: Smut warning!

A/N: To address all concerns re. Soundwave doing something stupid; I can only state that men in lust (and women, for that matter) are not inclined to think with their _brains_...

* * *

Disclaimer: I own Nightraider, Dreadnought and lil' Crossfire. All else to do with Transformers is the property of Hasbro and TomyTakara.

**Warning**: I'll err on the side of caution and label this chapter as M-rated for smut and implied smut. Probably very badly written smut, but I've tried, dammit. For anyone who doesn't like this, it's called a back button. Use it and I won't think any less of you.

_Italics_ denotes telepathy/thoughts

* * *

**Presents: Part 7**

* * *

Envy pulsed through the Communication officer's spark as he stared at the cluster of jets making their way back towards the firing range from their patrol.

Nightraider was sandwiched between Skywarp and Ramjet, all howling with laughter while they jostled for position behind Starscream. Behind them, Dirge and Thrust were trading barbs, their equally sour natures having been temporarily submerged after their ride in the skies.

The purple F-15 punched the femme jet on the shoulder. 'C'mon 'Raider, we're not gonna tease ya! Much!'

'Oh yeah, and there's the reason why I'll never tell you anything ever.' Nightraider flicked her wing against her comrade's flank.

Dirge glanced up from his current action of keeping Thrust in a headlock. 'OK, so you're telling us you _never_ thought about it? Not even a little?'

Ramjet smirked and looped an arm across the femme's shoulders. 'You _know_ you can tell us. It's got to be lonely up there on Cybertron, especially with all the good-looking mechs down here, so you're saying you've never looked at him and thought about seeing what's underneath all that laser plating, maybe tweaking a connector wire here and there and finding out what logic makes of interfacing?'

Nightraider shot the handsome white jet a derisive look as she ducked out from under his arm. 'No, but it sounds like you've given more than a little thought to it.'

She wiggled her eyebrows a few times and tried unsuccessfully to hold back a grin. 'Wouldn't've picked you for a gun-grinder, 'Jet.'

The other jets sniggered and smirked widely. Sensing a new victim had just been thrown into the fray, Thrust choked on a laugh and managed to yank his head free of Dirge's grip. 'So that's what turns yer crank, 'Jet? Gonna see if ol' Shocky might squeal for ya?'

'Oh, sit on it and swivel.' The white Conehead sneered and huffily shut his optics, switching them on again as he nearly collided with Starscream's back.

Dirge snorted. 'Nah. Think we'll leave that t' you and yer purple lover-mech.'

Ramjet sensed his out and grabbed it. '_Purple_ lover-mech? I do hate to break Skywarp's spark so publically, but he's not really my type.'

The other jets whistled and howled at the comeback. Skywarp mock-sighed and shrugged.

'Meh, fair play to 'im, not everyone can handle the Warp.'

Nightraider smirked. 'Yeah. Or what there _is_ to handle, from what I've heard from the femmes 'round Polyhex-'

'Seekers: attention required.'

All conversation was halted abruptly as Soundwave neatly stepped out of the shadows to stand in the path of the Seekers.

Starscream, as was his wont, immediately took the action as a challenge. He strode forward to meet the Communication officer's gaze while Skywarp and the Coneheads instinctively clustered around Nightraider, who expressed her disinclination towards the sudden protective attitude with two well-placed kicks to Skywarp's and Ramjet's legs.

'_What_ can you _possibly_ have to say that requires the _attention_ of _my_ troops?'

'Information: temporary addition to Seeker ranks.'

The red and silver F-15's optics narrowed. '_What_ 'temporary addition'?'

Soundwave risked a glance towards the flock of jets, and looked back at the Air Commander. 'Addition: Femme CMO Nightraider. Space bridge: undergoing emergency repairs. Thundercracker: still incapacitated. Nightraider's presence: required until all repairs reach completion.'

'And _why_ was _I _not asked _my_ thoughts about _this_?'

* * *

The tape-deck 'Con thought quickly. What exactly did the humans refer to this next action as?

Ah yes.

Shit-stirring.

Rather crude, but extremely accurate.

'Reassignment of troops: authorization required between Megatron and Shockwave alone. Your input: not required.'

* * *

And exactly as he had predicted, Starscream's mental processes went from zero to enraged in a sparkbeat.

'He _dares_ to undermine _MY_ authority over _my_ own troops? We'll see about _this_ right _now_, and he will _rue_ the day he _ever_ crossed paths with _me_!'

The Air Commander stomped off in the direction of the bridge. 'By the end of _this_ day, I, _Starscream,_ will be _avenged_ for this _insult_ and be _supreme_ leader of the Decepticons!'

Nightraider squirmed out of the group of sniggering jets and cupped her hands around her mouth as she yelled after him. 'No, you will attempt to overthrow Megatron, fail, cry, then repeat the cycle!' (1)

Dirge snorted through his vents. 'Two to one says Screamer gets his aft handed to him.'

Ramjet quirked an eyebrow upwards. 'Only two to one? Have we suddenly departed from the absolute certainty that space is cold, the stars are hot and our illustrious Air Commander can't make it through an orn without a failed leadership challenge?'

'Whatever, 'Jet. Anyway...' Skywarp rubbed his hands together, and then made a gesture down the now deserted corridor.

'Femmes and gentlemechs; do we wish to proceed to and take over the firing range, then use the Stunticons as target practice?'

A chorus of cheers greeted his words as the cluster of jets began to clatter down the hallway.

'Halt.'

The clattering stopped almost instantly as three sets of scarlet optics and two sets of amber optics turned on the Communications officer.

Soundwave didn't even flinch under the combined stares.

'Visit to weapons upgrade ward: required for CMO Nightraider. Terran weapons: to be replaced with null-ray upgrade.'

Nightraider brightened up considerably at this. 'Nice. So I finally get some laser weapons to play with.'

'Y'know 'Raider, you can always play with MY-'

'Thrust, exactly _how_ demeaning would you find it to enter the Matrix with a scalpel jammed through your head?'

The red and black mech jet only just managed to offline his vocaliser before the words made their merry way from his CPU to his mouth.

Nightraider patted his cheek in mock affection. 'Good mech.'

* * *

The Communications officer chose to ignore the multitude of wolf-whistles and various technologically impossible suggestions offered by the cluster of jets as they piled off towards the firing range.

This was mostly due to a heroic effort both to keep his spark firmly within his chassis, and not to succumb to a rather enjoyable fantasy to which he had now dedicated a hefty portion of his CPU. Elements of said fantasy involved the femme jet standing beside him, his speaker system, bungee cords, and the nearest available berth. And a large amount of sound-proofing.

Nightraider admittedly wasn't much better off, but she had had over eight million years to practice holding back her desires. Said desires pushed her just enough to shoot a small smile in Soundwave's direction.

'I seem to recall a mention of null-rays being fitted. Care to show me where weapons upgrade is?'

Soundwave nodded. He gestured towards a smaller medical bay further along the corridor and began to walk. 'Upgrade ward: first left.'

* * *

The upgrade ward was a few floors up from the main repair bay. Initially it had started out as a general weapons and armour storage area, but after the spacebridge had been built and more recruits had arrived from Cybertron, the sheer mass of armour alone had filled the room completely within a day. Weapons storage was now next to the repair bay, while armour storage was next to the training rooms for obvious reasons. The Constructicons, always eager to keep as many troops out of the repair bay as possible, had refitted the old storage room into a small operating theatre, used as an overflow ward during medical emergencies, but mainly to fit any necessary weapons upgrades, most of which could be done without medical intervention.

Nightraider idly swung her legs back and forth as she perched at the foot of the repair berth, waiting for the Communications officer to return with the promised null-rays. Behind her cockpit, her spark was busy doing the metaphysical equivalent of the can-can at the thought of being in the bay with Soundwave.

Alone.

No interruptions.

His hands on her frame, fitting the upgrades, and maybe lingering there just a little longer than planned...

Her fellow Seekers could tease her all they wanted about her attraction to the stoic navy mech, and dear Primus, they had exceeded her expectations, but it wasn't going to change how her spark felt. She couldn't recall mentioning anything about said attraction, but she hadn't exactly gone out of her way to deny any feelings. Combine this with the _Nemesis's_ gossip mill being fuelled at the speed of Skywarp and...yeah.

Starscream had, true to form, gone off like a form of louder, bitchier atomic bomb as soon as he had heard the rumours. This had led into an equally loud and bitchy monologue, during which the red and silver jet had claimed Nightraider was demeaning the Seekers as a whole by daring to even consider interfacing with a glorified groundpounder, and Megatron's psychic lackey at that.

The response from the femme jet had involved the loud and somewhat obscene questioning of Starscream's parentage, and the fervent request for him to cram his opinion up his boron compressor.

A normal orn by all accounts.

Then again, it was a well-known fact that the two jets annoyed the hell out of each other 99 percent of the time. As for the other one percent...

She censored her thoughts as Soundwave appeared in the doorway, a pair of custom-fitted null-rays in his hands.

'Time needed to perform upgrade: 15 minutes.'

Watching as the navy mech set the null-rays on a surgical trolley and started to excise the necessary wiring, Nightraider frowned slightly at the unfamiliar measurement. '15 minutes means...what, in plain Cybertronian?'

Soundwave glanced at her, his fingers testing the power lines in the weapons. 'One breem: approximately eight point three minutes.'

He made a gesture indicating Nightraider should turn to the side. 'Access to upper limb wiring: required.'

The femme jet, long used to performing upgrades and maintenance, quickly complied and turned to the right. Rotating both arms at the joints, she overrode the safety combinations on the two access panels long enough for Soundwave to take a manual drill to the gun mountings and prise the cannons away from her arms.

* * *

Nightraider tried not to shiver at the navy mech's touch as he bent over her right arm and started welding the newly exposed wires to the null-ray circuits. While his face from his current position was unreadable, he was treating her with the same kind of delicacy he reserved only for the Cassettes.

Not that she was complaining exactly, but that touch and his proximity was making it insanely difficult for her to ignore the little voice in her CPU telling her to slag protocol and just jump him now for the love of Primus.

* * *

A similar conflict was boiling within Soundwave's CPU as he meticulously checked the refitted wiring and sealed up the plating on Nightraider's right arm. His spark was now all but screaming within his chassis, reaching out desperately for its mate and being separated by only a few layers of hyper-reinforced steel and magnetic casing.

He managed to stop his hands from shaking as he picked up the second null-ray and checked over the wiring before fixing it to the femme jet's left arm.

The darkening of his visor was fortunately marred by the glow of the arc welder as he came across a roughened edge on the base of the null-ray. Concentration was required in order to correct the flaw, and so for a few seconds, he was able to put the F-14's proximity out of his thoughts.

* * *

The arc welder rattled for a moment after Soundwave set it on the trolley. He stood back enough for Nightraider to twist into a more comfortable position, and watched with satisfaction as she rolled her arms in their sockets.

'Fitting: adequate?'

The red and black jet shot him a quick smile, shuttering one optic as she tested her targeting systems. 'More than adequate.'

Her smile grew a little wider when she brought her right arm up and activated her target lock. It fixed almost instantly on Soundwave's chest, directly aiming at his spark chamber.

'Got you in my sights.'

* * *

Soundwave squeezed his hands into fists and started reciting a small mantra courtesy of his clearly deranged CPU.

_Hold in admiration, not fornication. Hold in admiration, not fornication. Hold in admiration, not fornication..._

The mantra stuttered to a halt and finally keeled over when Nightraider brought her other arm up, her fingers barely an inch away from his face-mask, and shot him a look which could only be politely described as 'aroused'.

'Soundwave...'

He barely heard her whispering his name over the sudden roar of her turbines, but it was enough.

Frag it.

* * *

The Communications officer lunged forward and pinned the femme jet to the berth, his optics taking on an almost ravenous gleam under his visor as he bent down and leaned his forehead against Nightraider's helm. Her turbines stuttered, and for a second he wondered if he was about to receive a fist to the face-mask.

The thought died a happy death as the femme jet brought her hands up to his face, slim black fingers tracing every corner, every ridge and scar with a delicacy that belied their true strength. She began to pant, her lips parting and optics narrowing slightly as they met his darkening gaze.

'..._Wings_...'

Soundwave smirked under his face-mask. She was direct, and he was grateful for it.

Now close enough to hear and feel her gasp, he raked his fingers across her right wing and felt lust race through his circuits at the sound of her strangled cry of pleasure.

He kept his optics fixed on hers while his right hand repeated the raking gesture on the other wing, his fingers tracing over the Decepticon insignia and ghosting over the fixings between the panels, his smirk growing wider at each mewl and sigh the red and black jet let out. The hand teasing the F-14's wing settled on her hip, while his other hand rested underneath her fuselage, caressing the base of her neck.

Nightraider, although in a state of highly stimulated shock, wasn't slow in responding to his actions. She looped her arms around Soundwave's neck and wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding her interface unit against his and digging her fingers into his back. A low moan slipped out, enough to cause the mech above her to tighten his grip and hold her head level with his, his fingers now ghosting over the cables in her neck and carefully tweaking some of the more sensitive ones.

Including the one that for some reason, always caused her spinal relays to spasm and the subsequent waves of sensory feedback to travel straight down to her interface unit.

This didn't go unnoticed by the navy mech. Sliding his hand across her hips, he managed to locate the minute latch for her pelvic plating and slid it back. Dark fingers proceeded to delve repeatedly into exquisitely sensitive circuitry, deliberately brushing against overheating wires and soldering until they found her interface port, one finger tracing the now scorching lip and teasing the small bundle of feedback circuits just inside the port with every pass.

The femme jet gave up any remote shred of dignity she was still clinging to and arched helplessly against the navy mech, burying her face against his neck and trying desperately to move her hips _just_ enough for those ruthlessly talented fingers to twitch and slip into her port, anything just to make the teasing last a little longer, to add to the overload that was steadily building up across her sensory circuits...

* * *

A small _-shhk-_ dragged her attention away from the rapidly growing heat between their bodies. Confused, she managed to focus on Soundwave's face and felt insanely grateful that she was mostly horizontal. The sight of the Communications officer minus his ever-present face-mask had an alarming ability to make the pistons in her legs turn to the consistency of engine lubricant. Full lips were curled in a smirk of pleasure, the darkness of his visor providing a stunning contrast to chiselled white face-plates and nasal plate, all relatively unscathed despite the millennia of civil and planetary warfare.

The smirk widened into a predatory smile.

'...Do you...wish this?'

Soundwave's visor was now crimson, his formerly rational mind now completely submerged in equal parts lust and desperation. Leaning over her, he brushed his thumb against her cheek plate and felt the rush of heat from her turbines wash over his chest. A growl of pleasure that even Ravage would be proud of was building steadily in his vocaliser.

Nightraider was already trembling, fingers digging into her partner's shoulders hard enough to dent the metal.

'_Nngh_...Sound_wave_...'

His fingers deliberately stroked the little bundle of circuits just once, drawing a tormented yelp from the femme jet.

'My name...is...hardly an answer...'

All Nightraider could do was wordlessly nod, not trusting her vocaliser not to glitch out. At that moment, she didn't think she was capable of anything as coherent as a noise, let along speech.

Her thoughts were proved wrong barely a second later as Soundwave brought his head down to her neck, his dental plates biting down on the over-sensitised wiring, and moved his hand _just_ enough so that when she howled and arched her body against his, his fingers finally slipped into her port.

And _curled_.

The femme jet crashed backwards onto the berth, grabbing onto the edge of the mattress with both hands and keening in ecstasy at the sensation of his fingers inside her. Her hips began to move, thrusting against the fingers as they stroked and probed the most sensitive parts of her fuselage with breathtaking speed.

Soundwave's own arousal was reaching what he had always thought to be a completely unapproachable level. Just listening to her cry out, and the feel of her legs tightening around his hips was doing things to his interface unit that few others, if anyone at all, had managed in over nine million years.

He leaned over Nightraider's trembling form and increased the speed of his caresses, his spark now soaring at the vision before him. Just a little more sensory play, just a little more pleasure for his femme before he claimed her...

Dark fingers twisted the sensory nodes within her port, making the femme curl her frame around his arm, one of her smaller hands clamping his larger hand to her pelvis. She managed to open her optics and stared up in hazy lust at the mech above her, his face-mask retracted, his mouth open and panting with arousal.

Close enough to...

She managed to pull Soundwave's head down to meet hers, and paused for a moment, feeling his intakes cycle air against her face, before she tilted her chin up and caught his lips in a sparkfelt kiss.

* * *

And at that precise moment, reality came crashing back into Soundwave's CPU with all the kindness and mercy of Motormaster after a three day bender.

* * *

She was kissing him.

She was holding him and moving with him, urging him towards a mutual overload, the like of which he hadn't experienced for a considerably long time.

She was one of the finest medical officers in the Deception army. She offered both Megatron and Shockwave her loyalty and expertise, and received theirs in kind. She had been Megatron's personal physician for a number of vorns before the Constructicons had been converted, and they still held a great mutual respect for each other because of it.

She was an expert on symbiotic sparks, and the one being whom he trusted with his spark who wasn't part of his family unit.

She was his equal.

And he was within a sparkbeat of taking her on a battered repair berth in a small, cramped back-up medical bay.

_...What am I doing?_

* * *

Soundwave tensed up almost immediately, his visor brightening from crimson to orange as he pulled out of the kiss, and away from Nightraider.

_What am I doing?_

'Soundwave, what in the Pit...?'

The red and black jet sat up, almost spitting in anger at the lead-up to one of the best overloads of her life disappearing in the space of an astrosecond.

'What the frag are you _doing_, why did you stop?'

The Communications officer took a few steps back, his face-mask snapping into place with what seemed to Nightraider to be a horrible finality.

'I...I cannot...'

Rationality departed for a quick smoke as the femme jet's temper took over. She managed to slide her interface unit shut, though not without a certain amount of pain, and stood up on trembling legs. ''Cannot' _what_? Leave me hanging like this? Because, Primus, you've got that right!'

Soundwave straightened his back and turned away from her, falling into his natural monotone. 'Incorrect assumption: cannot treat act with such disrespect.'

Her voice rose in increasing fury. 'It's hardly disrespect if I want it as much as you!'

'Explanation: complex.'

He couldn't bring himself to look at her. He could hear the hurt and rage in her voice every time she spoke, and it twisted around his spark like razor-wire.

'I-is it me? Have I done something?'

Particularly now.

'No: cannot treat you, cannot treat act, with such disrespect.'

Nightraider blinked back the tears of anger that blurred her vision. '_Soundwave..._'

She reached out a hand towards his shoulder. He carefully stepped out of her reach and walked towards the doorway, only risking a glance back as he left the upgrade ward.

'My apologies.'

* * *

All Nightraider could do was stand helplessly in the middle of the ward, staring at the doorway, her CPU screaming at her that her interface unit was still dangerously overheated, and anger and pain trying to fight for an equal place in her spark.

Punching something until it begged for mercy, or curling up in her quarters and howling her optics out in rage and pain?

Both sounded pretty damn good at that moment; so much that she didn't even hear Skywarp's teleportation warp until the purple jet stuck his head round the doorway, the paint on his wings smoking slightly, and wearing a grin so wide it looked like someone had taken an axe to his face.

'Hey 'Raider, what's the w-'

Skywarp cut himself off as he took in the femme jet's face. '...'Raider?'

Rare concern flashed in his optics when he saw how much she was shaking. One lone tear managed to fight its way down her cheek.

'Whoa whoa whoa, what happened?' He moved to hug her, hissing and pulling away in shock when his hips came into contact with hers.

Shaky femme, obviously upset, interfacing unit hotter than Death Valley in June, scratch marks over the wings and hips...

The purple jet's optics narrowed. 'Did Soundwave do somethin'? 'Cos, seriously, just say the word, and I'll string 'im up like a piñata!'

Nightraider just shook her head and gripped her friend's arm. 'Just...just get me back to the Seekers' wing.'

'But 'Raider-'

'NOW.'

* * *

'_Stupid_ glitching son of a _snowblower_. I had _every_ right to be involved in this _ridiculous_ decision, but _no_, I'm _only_ the _Air Commander_ and I _only_ hold the principal command over the _entire_ air force of the Decepticon army, so _why_ should I get _my_ turn to speak?'

Starscream's rant was audible almost three halls away as he stomped towards the Seekers' wing of the _Nemesis_.

Or stomping in his mind, at least. Currently he was limping along, nursing a cracked cheek-plate and favouring his left leg. His right hand covered a painful antimatter burn on his left wing, and his left hand was busy trying to pick a long strand of gold tinsel out of his spinal relays and failing miserably.

To say the latest coup d'état had not gone according to plan was something of an understatement.

If he was being honest with himself, Starscream hadn't exactly had the high ground when he had burst onto the command deck and proceeded to shriek his complaints to Megatron at a frequency only audible to dogs.

Once the Decepticon leader had offlined his audials out of a desire to avoid the repair bay, he finally chose to reveal his previously unknown talents at lip-reading.

The diatribe had quickly advanced to an argument so large it had three acts and a subplot. The outcome of this saw the red and silver jet onlining on the floor and purging his tanks like a sparkling after the Decepticon leader had demonstrated a rather vicious piledriver on him and pitched him headfirst into the long-suffering Christmas tree on the command deck.

Glitch.

The Air Commander winced at the bolt of pain which seared through his wing and glanced down at the wound. The gash was still oozing energon, the edges burnt and blackened after receiving a direct hit from his leader's fusion cannon.

Somehow, he had the feeling this wasn't about to heal without some sort of medical intervention.

And he didn't feel particularly in the mood for sitting through the Constructicons' ideas of local anaesthesia and surgery. So that left...

Oh joy.

At least the femme would be earning her energon tonight. Stubborn and smart-mouthed glitch that she was, he wasn't about to belittle her medical skills.

His mood lifting slightly, he staggered through the entry to the Seekers' wing and glanced around for the telltale flash of red highlights on black paint that might, if bribed, just stop snarking at him long enough to repair his injuries.

Dirge was sprawled over one of the benches, throwing electro-darts into the Autobot symbol festooning the dart board. Ramjet was resting his leg against the table, completely absorbed in polishing his armour to a gleaming finish, and Thrust was slumped in front of the TV, sniggering at a South Park repeat.

All normal, and yet no mouthy femme jet appeared in his sights. Hardly unusual.

But the sight of Skywarp exiting Nightraider's quarters at high speed with a look on his faceplates combining concern, exasperation and blind terror, was enough to make him stop and raise an eye-ridge.

The purple F-15 spotted his trinemate, relief flooding into his optics.

'Word t'the wise, Screamer. Unless you want a dose of pissy femme who didn't get some, stay outta there. Seriously.'

Starscream rolled his optics. 'Given a _choice_ between the _hexad_ from _hell_ in the med-bay, or a _permanently_ fragged-off _femme_, _I'll_ take the one that's _easier_ on the optics.'

'You _might_ wanna rethink that if you go in there. And _don't_ say I didn't warn ya.'

The red and silver jet snorted and slapped his palm against the access panel. 'Oh _please_. How _bad_ could it be _this_ ti-?'

* * *

'**Get the frag out of my quarters before I turn your head into a waste disposal!**'

* * *

Ah.

Starscream exhaled, removed a couple of emergency high grade cubes from his subspace, and decided to face the medic's wrath.

* * *

Nightraider refused to turn around as Starscream entered the room and perched at the foot of her berth. At the moment, she wasn't particularly inclined to give a frag about anyone or anything as long as she was left alone with her pain.

'What part of 'get the frag out' did you _not_ understand?'

The red and silver jet idly turned one cube of high-grade over in his hand and snorted. 'Hmmm. _Possibly_ it _fits_ with the part where I _refuse_ to listen to _whatever_ you say, _unless_ it's about what _precisely_ crawled up _your_ thrusters and died.'

He nudged the cube in her direction and sat back with his own cube. For a few moments, there was absolute silence in the room as Nightraider stared down at her feet and Starscream sipped his high-grade. He could wait; though the pain in his wing was starting to become more than just a little agonizing.

The Air Commander had been prepared for drama, for pissiness, for a no-holds-barred bitching session the likes of which only _he_ could rival.

What he hadn't expected was the femme jet to slowly turn to face him, optical fluid spilling down her face and dripping onto the tiny scratches covering her fuselage.

Starscream tried to keep his optics from widening without much success.

'_Talk_ to me, femme. _Now_.'

* * *

Wonderful.

Just utterly slagging wonderful.

Just to make today absolutely the worst of his entire existence...

During the altercation with Nightraider, he had completely forgotten to shield his thoughts and emotions from the Cassettes; none of whom had any desire to be experiencing feedback from their creator getting horizontal.

Particularly in Ratbat's case since the little bat still hadn't been informed as to what interfacing involved.

And right now, standing in the doorway to the side-ward, he had six identical pairs of extremely livid optics boring into his frame.

Soundwave shut his optics, pinched the bridge of his nose, and groaned.

Rumble and Frenzy started up a slow, mocking handclap; their optics filled with rare scorn. The blue Cassette opted to start the first assault.

'Nice goin', _boss_. What happened to 'all I want for Christmas is 'Raider' and all that?'

His twin launched his own offensive, leaning into Frenzy's side and glaring pointedly.

'I gotta say it Soundwave, _way_ to get some, except, y'know, the part where you _DIDN'T_.'

Laserbeak turned away in annoyance. _Leaving her hanging like that? Hardly the actions of a gentle-mech._ _And what was that excuse about 'not disrespecting' her or the act supposed to mean?_

_Yes, please do kindly furnish us with an explanation. One that might actually stop our little brother's CPU from crashing. _

Ravage cuddled closer to Ratbat, whose faceplates had moved from disgust to anger at his creator's actions, then straight back to disgust.

The little bat's nose was wrinkled up in utter revulsion as he stared up at Soundwave. _You wanted to do THAT with Nightraider? You __**liked**__ all that icky stuff?_

'That...is not the issue.'

Frenzy snorted. 'Yeah, except when it IS.'

'Frenzy, silence.'

Rumble turned to his youngest brother and flashed a quick smirk in his direction. 'Trust me Squeaky, when you get your adult upgrade, you will wanna do th' 'icky stuff', ooooooh, pretty much all th' time.'

The purple and yellow Cassette screwed up his face and stuck his tongue out in complete revulsion. _Eeeewww._

Ravage was not to be diverted however. He fixed his creator with a glare of cynicism and growled low in his vocaliser.

_You still have yet to explain why you did not, ah...complete your intended actions._

The Communications officer let out a rare sigh and sat down on the hard metal chair next to Ravage's berth, letting his head droop forward. 'It is...complicated.'

Laserbeak sniffed. _That's all we're going to get at the moment, isn't it?_

'I cannot explain it for now, but...I will tell you. I owe you all that much.'

The red condor's gaze softened imperceptibly. _And what of Nightraider?_ _Will you explain it to her?_

Soundwave raised his head, his optics weary. 'If she will let me. She was...displeased when our activities ended without resolution.'

Buzzsaw, who had remained mostly silent, finally spoke up. _Your activities, maybe._ _**Her**__ activities are another matter entirely._

A number of perplexed glances were directed at the golden condor. He ruffled his wings, settled down next to his sister, and tilted his head slightly as he met Soundwave's gaze.

_You left her alone, fragged off, hurting, and more than a little...riled up. She's a flier. She's a social being. Believe me, the Seekers are gonna find out about this, and when they do, yes, **they'll** be annoyed, but what exactly do you think **Starscream's** going to do with an angry, horny femme?_

* * *

'...Then Skywarp found me, and I just got him to bring me back here, and...you know the rest.'

The tears had stopped as quickly as they had started once Nightraider had gotten a decent look at Starscream's injuries. Her bruised ego had been thankfully put aside while she knelt next to the Air Commander and proceeded to fix his assorted injuries.

The haze of high-grade was also helping matters along quite nicely, providing just enough of an influence to let the F-14 repeat a more censored version of what had happened.

Starscream raised an optic ridge at his fellow flier's account. '_That_ was it? A _willing_, _available_ femme who wants him to _overload_ with her in _every_ way _imaginable_, and he just _leaves_?'

He let out a derisive laugh. 'Consider yourself _lucky_. _He_ probably wouldn't _know_ what to do with you if he _had_ followed through.'

'Oh, and you would?'

Nightraider glared at him and deliberately jabbed her arc welder into his fractured cheek-plate. The F-15 yelped in pain and tried to bat the implement away from his face.

'_Watch_ where you're _putting_ that thing!'

'Zip your flaps then.'

She squinted and returned to her repair job, holding Starscream's head steady while she carefully welded up the tiny fractures criss-crossing over his cheek-plate. He watched her with one optic shut, a smirk slowly crawling across his face as his gaze followed the shape of her kneeling frame and the way she held her lower body away from the berth.

He was willing to bet that thanks to Soundwave's actions, she wasn't just hot, but sparking by now.

One blue hand settled against the femme jet's hip, fingers tracing over the edge of her still-scorching interface unit.

'...I _don't_ seem to recall _you_ complaining about what _I_ did with you the _last_ time _we_ were like this. Or _any_ of the _other_ times...'

Nightraider glanced down at the touch, and then gave the Air Commander a Look. 'That's completely different.'

'Different _how_?' He was starting to enjoy this...

'Different in that most of the time, I'm _not_ entertaining fantasies of hacking out Soundwave's vocaliser with an ice pick.'

Starscream's smirk morphed into a smile so filthy that it would have needed a few hundred gallons of industrial solvent to get it even vaguely clean. 'Kinky glitch.'

The hand resting on her hip slid round to the small of her back and began to massage the sensors at the base of her wings.

Nightraider dropped her arc welder and instinctively leaned forward, biting her lip as Starscream pulled her across his body and rearranged her limbs so that she was straddling his lap, her arms around his neck, her face inches away from his and his optics dark as he studied her face.

The smile softened ever so slightly as he pulled her closer, his handsome face alight with lust. 'He's a _fool_. A _fool_ not to claim you as _his_, and a _fool_ who doesn't know _what_ he's missing every time you _overload_.'

His voice became a low purr against her lips. 'Let _me_ finish what the _telepath_ started.'

* * *

_No, no, no, no, NO, bad Nightraider, bad Nightraider; he's just taking advantage of you while you're sparking and yes, he's a gorgeous evil bastard and he knows it and oh Pri-MUS he's doing that thing to your wings that you LOVE and holy slag get a GRIP, you're only doing this because you're hurt and Screamer's saying all the right things and he's only being nice to you so he can get laid and hack off Soundwave all in one go, no, no, no, n-ooooooooooh frag yes, right fragging THERE and don't you even THINK of moving..._

As the Air Commander pinned her on her back and ran his hands over her wings, Nightraider gave up on rationalising her actions.

The best thing to do would be to worry about it in the morning.

Or at least _after_ she had worked out some of her frustration on Starscream's interface unit...

* * *

TBC

* * *

(1) Courtesy of Starscream's profile on the Transformers wiki, Teletraan-1. So unbelievably appropriate.


	8. Part 8

A/N: I have to say, the smut in the last chapter was probably the one of the trickiest things I've ever written. But due to the mostly positive response it had, I could be persuaded to write more...

* * *

Disclaimer: Nightraider, Dreadnought and Crossfire are mine. No taking without asking. Everything else is the property of Hasbro and TomyTakara. Have at.

_Italics_ denote telepathy/thoughts

* * *

**Presents: Part 8****  
**

* * *

The shimmer of holographic light on metal utterly enchanted the little lavender gun-former, his single golden optic shining with delight as he reached out and tried to bat the tachyons with his hands.

'What that thing on 'Con face head?'

Dreadnought carefully plucked Crossfire away from the display, earning a squeak of disappointment as he plopped the little mech into his lap and resumed his study of the bastardised faction symbol before him. A fluffy, red and white piece of organic material was draped of the helm of the symbol, falling into a strange point over one optic and topped with a downy white ball of what seemed to be cloud vapour.

'I'm gonna take a stab and say that's one of those Santa hats 'Raider was telling us about.'

Crossfire clicked in excitement, and then purred as one of Dreadnought's giant fingers carefully rubbed the top of his little cranium. 'Can I have one?'

The battlecruiser paused, and glanced towards Shockwave, who was currently shooting him a Look.

'Err...ask Shockwave, lil' buddy.'

The lavender gun-former's optic dimmed slightly as he turned to his left and stared up at his creator. 'I can have Santa hat?'

His hopeful expression was met with one of deep-seated disapproval. Shockwave angled his head to better study his errant creation, his own optic narrowed. 'What exactly makes you believe that your behaviour over the past two orns has warranted the gift of a 'Santa hat'?'

Crossfire put his fledgling processor to work, and came up with the only answer which ever mattered to a sparkling. Especially to one who soaked up knowledge like the proverbial sponge.

'Cos it's Christmas?'

The Military Operations officer rested the base of his cranium against his knuckles. 'A weak attempt at gaining material goods. We are Transformers. We do not celebrate Christmas. We have not celebrated any religious or celestial holidays since long before the war.'

'But I wanna Santa hat!'

'The answer is no, and it will remain no until you learn some decorum.'

Even with a lack of faceplates and only one optic, Crossfire somehow managed to rearrange his posture and features into those of the classic pouty sparkling. 'Wanna Santa hat!'

'I reiterate, no.'

A rush of air through tiny vents echoed through the room. Crossfire's single optic instantly filled with tears and he began to wail.

Loudly.

'YOU MEANIE! I WANNA SANTA HAT! I HATE YOU!'

Shockwave's patience almost immediately gave out. Grabbing his sparkling by the scruff bar, he hauled the bawling little mech out of Dreadnought's lap and up to his optic level, rare anger starting to rise in his CPU.

'This is behaviour unbecoming of one born of the military lineage of Tarn. You will silence your vocaliser _now_; otherwise I will be forced to _discipline_ you.'

The wailing stopped abruptly, Crossfire's processor quickly deciphering his creator's emphasis on the word '_discipline'_.

He'd been _disciplined_ before. It hadn't been fun.

He sniffled as he dangled in a tiny lavender and silver ball, suddenly aware of how far he was from the floor.

It didn't stop him from offering one last sulky declaration. 'Wanna Santa hat.'

Shockwave slumped slightly in his chair, his optic narrowing into an irritated glare as he dumped Crossfire unceremoniously back into Dreadnought's lap. 'I believe this is _your_ area of expertise.'

The battle cruiser traded glares with the elder of the two gun-formers while Crossfire made himself comfortable against his guardian's massive kneecaps. 'How come it's _my_ 'area of expertise' whenever Shorty here misbehaves?'

'Me not short.'

Dreadnought gently shifted the pouty little gun-former so that he was snuggled comfortably against his fuel tanks, and plugged in a sparkling-sized feeding tube from his secondary tank into Crossfire's intake valve. 'Short in proportion to the room, little guy.'

Shockwave glanced down at his now sweetly behaved offspring and blew a gust of air through his vents. 'I believe _that_ is why.'

'_...No, to be perfectly honest, it's because all of us know you couldn't keep a jar of mould alive._'

* * *

A sudden burst of white noise from the monitor interrupted the conversation, the Decepticon symbol dissolving into static before reforming into a more welcome set of face plates. On Earth, Nightraider frowned at the image and employed the time-honoured tradition of whacking the side of the med-bay vidscreen until the picture cleared up, finally shooting a grin at the trio as the static finally cleared.

'So, how are my favourite mechs?'

Crossfire's squeal of delight nearly shattered the audios of the two elder mechs. ''Raider! I missed you! What Earth like? What Christmas like? What you been _doing_?'

Dreadnought flipped off a quick salute and let a grin spread over his faceplates. 'What he said, except you know what details _I_ want...'

He wiggled his eyebrows in as suggestive a fashion as he could manage.

The F-14, knowing only too well what he meant, rolled her optics. 'Does your CPU just _live_ in the waste disposal?'

'I let it out occasionally for good behaviour. Now, _details_, dear femme.'

Shockwave leaned the base of his cranium against his hand, his optic flashing gold. 'Is this entire communication intended to be based solely around your shared and somewhat insatiable need for spurious knowledge?'

Nightraider and Dreadnought traded glances.

'...Yes?'

'You were expecting something _else_?'

The Military Operations officer let out a rare sigh. 'No. I merely thought I should check in case the Great Shutdown was due to occur and you had decided to break with tradition.'

The battle cruiser waved a dismissive hand, disconnected the feeding tube from the tiny gun-former's intake, and then carefully lifted Crossfire up to sit on his shoulders. 'Pfft. When Unicron finally appears to stop us gossiping, we'll let you know.'

He rubbed his hands together and turned a look of greedy delight upon the image of the red and black jet before him.

'Now, give me details!'

Nightraider shot him a deadpan look.

'That's not giving me details; that's glaring at me.'

Dreadnought narrowed his optics in turn, studying the F-14 closely. Her body language was fractionally different in her new alt-mode; her arms crossed slightly lower across her fuselage, rather conveniently covering the most angular points of her frame, and her posture was slightly too rigid for comfort.

Either she was trying to protect herself...or she was hiding something.

And he was willing to bet a barrel of high-grade as to what exactly she was hiding.

Crossfire giggled and grabbed onto his guardian's antennae to keep himself steady as Dreadnought leaned forward, a smirk spreading quickly across his faceplates.

'Since you look like the stick up your aft has got a stick up _its_ aft, should I assume someone got lucky within the past two orns?'

On Earth, Nightraider's optics widened in mild panic, and flicked from side to side, searching desperately for an escape. 'Erm...define _lucky_.'

Dreadnought's grin widened. 'Only if you define who the _other_ someone was.'

'And who says it was only some_one_?'

'I believe you just did, thus indicating that it was at least _one_ lucky slagger. So, next question, was it our beloved Comms officer? And do bear in mind a wrong answer at this point will subject you to a round of mockery the likes of which the universe has never before witnessed.'

'You're really not giving me much wiggle room here.'

Dreadnought's patience finally exhausted itself. 'Was it or was it not Soundwave?'

Even Shockwave and Crossfire were now regarding her with a modicum of curiosity. Neither stare was exactly welcomed.

Frag it.

She sighed, rolled her optics, and lowered her arms, enough for the three Cybertronian residents to take in the red, silver and blue scuffs of paint streaking her fuselage.

Dreadnought's mouth dropped open in horror.

Shockwave's single optic briefly offlined out of disbelief.

Crossfire was the one who finally, and very innocently, asked the question his creator and guardian utterly refused to vocalise.

'Why you got Starscream's paint colours over your vents?'

* * *

'Question.'

Ravage cracked open one optic and glanced at his cobalt sibling. _The answer is no._

'I ain't even said what it is yet!'

_Most questions that you ask, Rumble, can safely be pre-empted with a flat denial._

The blue Cassette pouted. 'But it's important!'

Laserbeak, never one to miss an opportunity to tease her older brother, contentedly joined the discussion. _The last time you had an important question, it was to ask if Flip Sides would interface with you for...what was it again?_

Buzzsaw twittered. _I believe it was three cubes of high grade and something shiny._

_And even after that, she still punched you through the wall._ The black felinoid stretched out his newly repaired claws, admiring the untouched shine of the gleaming steel.

Frenzy sniggered and clicked the rewind button on the VCR remote. 'I toldja at th' time you shoulda raised it t' four cubes.'

'Meh. She prob'ly couldn't've handled a tumble with th' Rumble anyway. But yeah, question.'

Ravage shot his younger brother an exasperated look. _What part of 'no' did I not make clear?_

'Th' whole 'no' part. Put a cork in it for a sec Rav, this _is_ important.'

_Oh Primus save us...alright, what is it?_

Wings fully repaired and now happily latched onto the overhead I-beam, Ratbat carefully turned around and cocked his head at his sibling.

_Is it about Soundwave and Nightraider?_

Rumble nodded. 'Got it in one, Squeaky.'

He spread his arms wide and held out his hands. 'How long are they gonna keep dancin' round each other? We know what happened; fraggit, the whole _ship_ knows what happened. When're they gonna just sort it out?'

Musing quietly, Laserbeak let a rare grimace cross her faceplates. _I believe the crew knows only that Soundwave and Nightraider attempted to interface, Soundwave backed out at the last moment, and in what __**they**__ believe was an act of reprisal, Nightraider ended up in Starscream's berth._

'Thanks to Skywarp, at least. And none of us know why th' boss backed out 'cos he still ain't told any of us.' Frenzy bit on his lower lip in thought, leaning against his twin's legs.

The purple and yellow Cassette let out an unhappy chirrup. _So what __**do**__ we know? And how can we get them to make up?_

Buzzsaw squinted as he thought. _Well, normal service has resumed between the jets; they won't talk unless it's to snipe at each other. And Soundwave's back on regular duty, so once we get the all-clear from the Constructicons and Nightraider, then we're free to leave and she just has to wait until the space-bridge is repaired before she returns to Cybertron. That's three days at most, and Christmas Eve falls tomorrow._

The little bat chirruped again, his processor whirling. _Then they have to be somewhere they can talk, where no-one else can bother them._

Ravage growled in mild annoyance. _And how, pray tell, do you intend to distract an entire crew of gossipy, insane and otherwise perverted mechs long enough for any kind of resolution to occur?_

Silence fell over the group as six processors went to work.

Finally, Rumble's faceplates lit up in glee. Transmitting the thought to his twin through their bond, he watched with almost evil delight as the red Cassette's faceplates reformed into a matching smirk.

'Simple, and yet genius. I'll comm. 'Warp.'

'How much high-grade we got in th' stores?'

Ravage simply groaned and buried his head in the mattress. _Am I correct in assuming that the phrase 'P-A-R-T-Y' is heading into this conversation with much amusement and unwarranted haste?_

'Hey, you got a better plan, kittykat?'

_I would have preferred something with perhaps a tad more subtlety. _

A screech of indignation suddenly blasted through the wall from the officer's ward.

_However, I can hear the sounds of the residents of Darkmount finding out about the events of the past two days, so unfortunately, it's the only plan we've got._

The felinoid stretched out his claws once more and gazed over his newly repaired siblings.

_Cassettes, to work._

* * *

In his considerably lengthy life, Shockwave had found very few things that could not be adequately processed by either his considerable CPU or his beloved logic.

Logic kept the universe in harmony. Logic enabled him to help Cybertron survive in the extended absence of his great lord and master.

Listening to Dreadnought banging his helm into the console and groaning loudly, the purple gun-former was forced to agree with the battlecruiser's non-verbal belief that logic clearly didn't govern femmes in lust.

Dreadnought risked raising his head enough to stare at his friend, a look of sheer exasperation on his faceplates.

'I do realise I ask this question every time this happens, but WHY?'

Nightraider growled and waved her hands about as if trying to pluck an excuse out of the ether. 'There _were_ extenuating circumstances!'

'Oh, this should be worth a laugh.' The battlecruiser glared at the vidscreen. 'And these extenuating circumstances would be...?'

The femme jet shifted uncomfortably before flapping a hand in the general direction of Crossfire, now sitting within the safety of Shockwave's lap. 'Can someone cover his audials?'

Crossfire folded his arms in an unconscious imitation of his sire. 'Me want to hear!'

'I'll tell you when you're older, sweetspark. Now, hands over audials.'

The little gun-former grumbled, but still did as he was told; he tightly clamped his hands over his audials and leaned against his creator's torso.

Shockwave's expression could almost be called annoyed. 'Please define these 'extenuating circumstances'. Dreadnought and I are most curious as to what could make a rational femme, possessing intense emotions for one particular mech, willingly interface with another mech whom she unreservedly loathes.'

Nightraider looked down at her fuselage, trying desperately to stop her expression from wavering. '...I-I had to fly patrol, so that meant a new alt-mode. When we got back, I needed to get my weapons upgraded; Soundwave did the fittings for me, and we were alone, and I dunno...it-it just _happened_.'

'Whoah-whoah-whoah-_**whoah**_. Care to run that last bit past me again?' Dreadnought blinked in shock, his mouth dropping open.

'When you say 'happened', are we still taking the definition of 'happened' to mean 'had you upside down and halfway to the Matrix'?'

'Yeah. It 'happened' at least halfway, and it _would've_ 'happened' all the way if he hadn't backed out for some reason.'

Shockwave's optic narrowed. 'He refused to interface with you?'

'Backed out, not refused. There's a difference.'

'And then...?'

'He left me, and I wasn't exactly in the best mental state. 'Warp found me, got me back to my quarters, then Starscream stamped in throwing a pissy fit about his latest coup, I fixed him up, he found out about everything, and...eh.'

Dreadnought nodded wearily. 'You were upset, he took advantage, and then you did each other into the berth. WHY do you do this to yourself?'

He waved his hands madly enough to make Shockwave lean out of the way, his one good hand shielding Crossfire's body.

'Every time this happens, yes, you both get an overload, but then _you_ feel guilty, and _he_ just goes back to acting like a bastard! I know he's one of your commanding officers, I know the pair of you have known each other for vorns, I know he can _occasionally_ be helpful, but it doesn't change the fact that he treats all of his berth-partners, including _you_, like slag! You deserve better than that!'

The black and red jet snarled. 'You think I don't _know_ that?'

'I'm just wondering if you _actually_ do!'

The battlecruiser caught his breath and tried to calm down as he took in Nightraider's expression. She was shaking, her head hanging with her optics screwed shut and fluid starting to gather at the corners.

He sighed, trying to rein in his temper. '...Have you tried to talk to Soundwave since?'

Nightraider's voice was trembling badly. 'No...just been trying to avoid everyone and finish up the repairs.'

Shockwave quietly leaned forward. 'I would suggest questioning him as to his reasoning. Did he give you any indication as to why he would not continue in his actions?'

'He...didn't want to 'disrespect me or the act', whatever that means.'

The gun-former nodded, his processor instantly calculating the variables. 'I concur with Dreadnought; question him. Make no further decisions until that is done.'

Nightraider sighed and scrubbed her hand over her optics. 'I make no promises.'

'Bar one; get thee to lover-mech and TALK TO HIM. Or just do him, whichever one works faster.'

'_Dreadnought_!'

Dreadnought finally grinned. 'Ooooohh, look at that. Time's up, gotta go, love ya!'

Crossfire, seeing that his guardian was preparing to end communications, pulled his hands away from his audials and waved at the irate femme. 'Bye 'Raider!'

'Dread-'

The screen flickered and faded to black.

* * *

Slouching against the computer console, the red and black jet let her head droop and quietly wondered if it was possible to throttle someone to death when they were on another world.

Failing that, a method of killing Starscream without the act being traced back to her would be nice.

And failing that, a few joors of peace without every mech in the repair bay passing comment as to her love life would be amazing. That had been part of the reason why she had contacted Cybertron – the only one likely to make any kind of remark was Dreadnought, and even then he kept it to a minimum due to an excellent self-preservation instinct.

Now...she couldn't work out if she felt better or worse for having spoken to them. The battlecruiser was right; she had to talk to Soundwave. But after The Incident (as she privately thought of it), she had been doing her utmost to stay out of the navy mech's sight, and it appeared he had been doing the same. Apart from the previous day, when she had called in while he was visiting his creations, and she had confirmed that the major repairs to the Cassettes were complete.

To say that the conversation had been awkward was a massive understatement.

A small scuffle and a cough brought Nightraider out of her thoughts. She turned her head slightly and glared at the slightly sheepish-looking power shovel standing in the doorway.

'If this is another joke Scavenger, I swear to Primus I'll beat you offline with your own scoop.'

The youngest of the Constructicons squeaked and backed out, gesturing to someone behind him to head inside.

'Um, someone to see you.'

'Tell them to slag off.'

A set of turbine heels clicked against the tiles as the newcomer crossed the room to stand beside the femme jet.

'I'll let you off for that one, just because I like my head right where it is.'

Nightraider sighed and waved a hand at the sanest member of the Seekers before returning her gaze to the floor. 'Hey TC. How're the wings?'

Thundercracker quietly knelt down beside the jet, a small smile on his faceplates. 'They're attached and I'm online, so I'm not about to complain.'

He tilted his head, taking in his friend's slumped posture and the paint scuffs over her fuselage and wings. 'Feel like telling me what happened?'

Nightraider growled and stared at her feet. 'Why don't you just ask the rumour mill known as your wing-mate?'

The blue and black F-15 shrugged. 'I wouldn't like to guess as how much he's brushed up the details. And if something like this happens, you always go straight to the source.'

He leaned back on his heels. 'Since I still look like slag, I'm heading down to the wash-racks and retouching my paint. You know as well as I do that's a two mech job for flight models.'

His smile widened slightly.

'Just figured you might need a break.'

Nightraider looked up, and weakly returned the smile.

'With no comments?'

Thundercracker stood up and looped an arm around the femme's shoulders. 'With no comments.'

She cuddled into his side, the slightly sick feeling in her tanks lessening considerably. 'Can I kill Starscream if I see him?'

'Hmmm. Check with our illustrious leader. You know he's got first dibs.'

* * *

Soundwave had not had a good two days.

The first indication of how his holiday season was about to proceed came the morning after The Incident (as he now referred to it); Starscream had turned up late for shift, looking far too smug for someone who had recently had the mech-fluid beaten out him by Megatron, and covered in dark red and black paint marks.

One glance into the Air Commander's processor had confirmed Buzzsaw's prediction.

After calmly, thoughtfully and quietly crushing part of the main communication system under his fist, he then had to spend the next half hour repairing it.

Unfortunately, Starscream had seen what had happened, and proceeded to do what he did best.

'_Do_ make sure it's _properly_ finished. But then _again_, it _wouldn't_ be the _only_ job _you_ left _incomplete_.'

The Communications officer had been in an absolutely foul mood by this point. He jabbed a soldering iron into the bowels of the console and furiously welded a circuit board into place. 'Suggestion: shut up.'

'And _how_ do you _intend_ to _make_ me? With your little _brats_?'

Starscream had leaned against the console and smirked at the visible half of Soundwave's body. '_Oh_, but _wait_, they're _still_ in the medical bay. I _do_ hope Nightraider has the _energy_ to _complete_ their repairs. She _did_ insist on beginning her _shift_ without her morning _rations_, even though she _did_ tire herself out _last_ _night_.'

Underneath the console, Soundwave had silently wondered if anyone would particularly mind if the Air Commander had a hideously disfiguring and incredibly drawn-out accident with the soldering iron in the next ten minutes.

'_Not_ to _mention_ offlining _me_. But then _again_, it's _not_ as if _you'd_ know what you're _missing_.'

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending how one looked at it, Megatron had intervened.

'So what you're saying is that our guest has both greater stamina and a better work ethic than you.'

'That's _not_- I mean, _I_...she's... didn't _mean_...'

The Decepticon warlord had simply glowered from his command chair. 'Say what you mean, Starscream, or say nothing. Or perhaps I should be asking Nightraider to be my second-in-command...'

Off of his commander's glare, Starscream had decided that silence was the better part of valour in quite short order.

The silence hadn't prevented Soundwave from surreptitiously welding the F-15's heel turbines to the floor.

He felt it was a small but important victory.

* * *

The rest of that day and the entirety of the following day had run along similar lines. Starscream had kept his mouth shut, but the purple and black gossip-monger that made up a third of the Elite trine had already done the damage. Within 12 hours, every mech on the _Nemesis_ knew what had happened, and most were of the opinion that their Communications officer didn't have one screw fully tightened.

He could live with this. In his lifetime, he'd heard worse.

But some of the comments about Nightraider; it had taken all of his control not to telepathically brutalize a number of the mechs who insulted the femme so brazenly.

Finally, he had taken himself and his aching processor off to the wash-racks for a pre-Christmas shower, lest he give in to one particular urge and nail Skywarp to the ceiling with his own Hilti-gun.

The cleaning fluid streamed into every crevice and seam in his plating, the heat soothing his tensed circuitry and the low ache in his neck. He closed his optics, retracted his mask and let the fluid wash over his faceplates, grateful that at least his frame was clean, if not his conscience.

Scrubbing at a small patch of dried energon, the Communications officer sighed and squirted a dose of hexane onto his arm. There had to be some way of talking to the femme, even just to explain the reason behind his actions. Over the past two days, he had been trying to formulate the words, urging them out of his processor into something even vaguely coherent, or at least something that might help Nightraider to understand...

The sound of an aerosol paint spray and the clatter of turbine heels brought him out of his musings. Leaning back out of his stall, his spark contracted slightly as he saw the femme in question armed with the paint spray, leaning over a kneeling and newly repaired Thundercracker and carefully covering the scars over his wings.

A tap on the head, and the F-15 stood up, twisting his body in front of the mirror so that his back and wings could be seen properly.

'I'll take it that's better?'

His faceplates slid into a smile, and he nodded, gesturing to Nightraider for the paint spray. The femme jet settled cross-legged on the tiled floor and glanced at her reflection, frowning slightly at the scrapes adorning her frame.

Thundercracker glanced up from his current task of digging through the paint stores for the correct shade of black, and shook his head. 'They're just superficial marks, they won't take long to buff out.'

'Hmph. Wish Starscream was a superficial mark.'

'He's a superficial narcissist most of the time if that helps any.'

'Not a lot, but thanks for trying.'

Nightraider sighed and looked down, completely missing the navy mech moving stealthily out of the showers, passing behind her, and finally standing next to Thundercracker. To his credit, the F-15 didn't show his shock. He simply quirked an eyebrow upwards and stared at Soundwave.

The navy mech opened a private comm. channel and gestured towards the paint spray.

-Nightraider: safe with me. Your presence: not required.-

The blue and black jet looked down at the navy mech's hand, back at Nightraider, and finally glared into Soundwave's visor.

-You hurt her, we hurt you. Got it?-

-Threat: unnecessary but acknowledged.-

* * *

Standard procedure in respraying the flight model Cybertronians was to start on the right wing and move across in one continuous line. The blast of air and paint to the spinal column was enough to jar Nightraider out of her musings and shoot a confused glare into the mirror at the mech behind her.

'TC, what are you...?'

Her optics met Soundwave's visor in the mirror, instantly cutting off the remains of her question.

Silence descended over the room as the two Decepticons stared at each other, neither wanting to move in case the other left.

Nightraider was the first to look away, choosing to stare at the floor while her spark twisted in its chamber at Soundwave's proximity. Taking that as his cue, the navy mech quietly knelt behind her and resumed his actions with the paint spray, the awkwardness in the atmosphere increasing massively.

For a few minutes, the only sound in the room was the aerosol as it coated the scratches on the femme jet's back and wings in black paint, Soundwave resting one hand against her hips to keep her still. Finally, the spray was shut off, and the hand moved away.

It took most of Nightraider's willpower not to reach for it, or lean backwards against the Communications officer.

'Nightraider: unaware of...reasoning.'

She glanced up as Soundwave moved to kneel in front of her, exchanging the black canister for its red counterpart and twisting the nozzle to produce a smaller spray pattern.

'...Yeah.'

The navy mech leaned closer, aiming the paint spray at the most obvious mark on her fuselage. Staring up at her faceplates, he made his decision, and opened the link between himself and his creations.

'Reasons: multiple.'

'I'm not going anywhere.' She leaned back slightly and waited.

The paint spray obliterated the silver scuff mark.

'Origins...' He shook his head.

'I was onlined in Kaon, but I was one of the cluster of sparks generated every thousand vorns by the Well of All-Sparks. The Guardians of the Youth Sectors scanned me upon my release, and discovered my abilities. To their knowledge, and to mine, I am the only telepath the Well has ever generated.'

The spray moved lower.

'I was truly unique, and truly unique meant a solitary existence in the Sectors. The Guardians cared for me, but few of the other younglings wished to be around one who learned so quickly, and who could read their innermost thoughts. I chose to study, and to bury any ideas of companionship or friendship under knowledge. The Autobot Jetfire was a Guardian at that time, and he encouraged my studies.'

More scuffs and paint disappeared under the red mist.

'I did not feel the need for companionship until I began my scientific training. When I entered the Science Academy, I was completely alone for the first time in my existence. I was unaware of what the sensation was, until I encountered you.'

Nightraider started slightly, staring into his visor.

'With you...I felt companionship. Without your presence, I knew what loneliness was. But I could not name the sensation in my spark. I tried to assuage the loneliness through work, high-grade, meaningless overloads, and nothing matched that feeling.'

The last mark disappeared.

'And then, you put forward your final proposal; forced spark symbiosis without using two brands of spark energy. Spark parthenogenesis.'

The femme jet tentatively raised her hand and placed it against the Communication officer's tape tray. 'The Cassettes.'

'I...would no longer be alone, I could become a creator without the need for any other mech or femme, and you could prove your thesis. Every time I needed to have the requisite health checks or scans...I could still see you. And even after I lost the ability to spawn, my creations were still fond of you. I could indulge both their needs for further companionship, and mine, by staying close to you.' His hand wrapped around her smaller fingers.

'All of that, and then you just-'

Nightraider closed her optics and started again. 'You _wanted_ what happened in the weapons bay, I know you did. Why didn't you...?'

'I believe I mentioned meaningless overloads.'

The F-14 frowned. 'I don't need the details of your berth partners.'

He didn't pause. 'When I was still alone, I had managed to have enough interfaces with other mechs and femmes to learn that an overload by itself was pleasurable, but to overload with someone I cared for; processor, chassis and spark...'

Soundwave leaned closer, finally daring to rest his helm against Nightraider's. 'I had envisioned that someone to be you, but only if you wished for it. When we were together in the weapons bay, my motives were only for satisfying physical desire, not for...'

Nightraider raised her head slightly, her lips almost coming into contact with the navy mech's face-mask. 'For what?'

'...A bond.'

* * *

The femme jet completely froze, staring at Soundwave in utter shock.

She hadn't even dared to hope that _that_ was what he had intended.

* * *

In the back of her processor, she became aware that her lips had started moving again.

'Why didn't you just ask me?'

The Communications officer sighed. 'Back then, you did not know what you wanted. I did not know that a bond was what I desired. And when I finally did know, even telepathy could not guarantee me the answer I wanted.'

He squeezed her hand. 'I am imperfect in spark, and I would not harm either my creations or you in pursuing my desires. You are independent, strong-willed. And you...enjoy interfacing, even with a mech you dislike.'

Almost immediately, he realised that this was the wrong thing to say. Nightraider snatched her hand back, pushed herself away from him, and stood up.

'So I was supposed to remain a newly minted femme while you made up your mind about what you wanted?'

He held up his hands, sensing the conversation was about to go downhill. 'I...was uncertain.'

'Of what?'

'If you regarded me as more than just a colleague, more than a potential berth partner.'

Nightraider looked down at the floor, trying not to cry at the tearing sensation in her spark, and finally turned and headed for the exit.

Halting in the doorway, she turned enough to look back at the mech still kneeling on the floor, and sighed.

'Would I have waited this long if all I wanted from you was a quick lay?'

The door hissed shut as she turned back and left the wash racks.

* * *

Soundwave just let his head crash against the tiles as he collapsed backwards onto the floor and offlined his visor.

That...had gone somewhat better than he had expected, and somehow worse than he had thought.

And the intrigued silence from his creations, followed by a message on the general comms system about a Christmas party, wasn't helping matters.

He had a distinct feeling the two were connected.

* * *

TBC


	9. Part 9

A/N: Believe me when I say the past couple of months have been a bit insane; the kind of insane that has the annoying tendency of squashing any lingering creativity and replacing it with stabby-stabby tendencies.

* * *

Disclaimer: Nightraider, Dreadnought and Crossfire are my pretties, and I'm not sharing! Everything else is the property of TakaraTomy and Hasbro, who I merely play with, slightly abuse, and then return looking a little battered.

Also, the fantastic song '2-4-6-8 Motorway' quoted in this part is by the Tom Robinson Band. I think that's a pretty clear indication of my lack of ownership.

_Italics_ denote telepathy/thoughts.

* * *

**Presents: Part 9**

* * *

With the reawakening of the Autobot and Decepticon forces almost 15 years ago, the evolution of human technology had been greatly accelerated. Radical developments in AI and personal computing, pioneering surgical techniques, enhanced engineering and new automotive capabilities, all discovered or reverse-engineered from Cybertronian technology, were now widely available across the Earth.

Unfortunately, humans hadn't quite caught onto the concept of compact speakers.

This wasn't a huge issue admittedly, but when there were only two tape-deck Cybertronians on Earth, one of whom was an Autobot, and the other one had made himself scarce at the first hint of a party, the reliance on human audio equipment was proving to be something of an annoyance.

A very heavy annoyance.

And mostly to Ravage.

* * *

The feline Cassette's patience had been exhausted the instant he had been hitched to the trolley loaded with sound equipment. His familial loyalty and love had also decided to step out for a quick smoke at the sight of Rumble and Frenzy's combined sound decks and mp3 hard drive collection, and at the set of three smug looks from Buzzsaw, Laserbeak and Ratbat.

Ravage's thoughts were audible almost two decks away as he yanked the trolley into the refectory, swiped through the harness with his claws, and set about shoving the speakers into place while ignoring the sniggers both from his siblings and the assorted troops sprawled around the room.

_WHY exactly am I doing this? WHY am I acting as your go-to 'Con and NOT as the reasonable voice of cynicism? WHY and HOW do you have so many Primus-damned speakers and WHY can't you just use the comms system?_

Frenzy cheerily plugged a microphone into one of the decks and started to fiddle with the equaliser settings. "One, it's retro; two, the harness didn't fit anyone else; and three, Megatron and Soundwave won't let us near the comms system after that thing with the sonic boom in 'Screamer's lab."

Ravage's left optic twitched. _Retro._

Rumble glanced back from his current job of wiring the speakers and shrugged. "OK, so this stuff was junk on Cybertron when it was _new_. Here, it's _retro_."

Laserbeak grumpily caught the cable thrown up to the refectory ceiling and jabbed one end into the speakers. _Maybe so, but here, it is a pain in the aft._

The feline Cassette shared a look of mild sympathy with his sister. _Seconded. Now, if my presence is no longer required, I intend to make thorough use of my recreation time before this farce of a gathering._

The blue Cassette scratched his head. "That jus' means you're takin' a nap, right?"

_I'm a **cat**, little brother. Do look it up._

With his parting shot complete, Ravage slunk out of the refectory towards the officers quarters. Frenzy stuck his head out the door and watched his elder sibling's progress for a few seconds before opting to bellow after him. "Whatever. Snooze fast. Everythin's kickin' off soon as 'Warp gets in with the femme and the high-grade."

Laserbeak glanced at the various ground and air forces, most of whom were quite content to sit back and inhale the contents of their energon cubes, and sighed.

_If Nightraider appears with most of the high grade **in** her, I will opt to remain unsurprised._

* * *

"Put me down."

Skywarp shifted his burden more securely onto his shoulder and grinned.

"Nope."

"Please put me down?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Put me down now or I'll remove your teleport via your exhaust!"

The purple and black F-15 simply patted Nightraider on her aft and kept walking. "Unlikely."

"Well at least put me under your arm or something, your ailerons keep jabbing me in the hip!"

"But then I can't appreciate the view up the front."

The femme jet only just prevented herself from stretching back and trying to strangle her temporary transporter, and instead pulled the big-optic look on a far-too-amused Thundercracker, currently lugging several cubes of high-grade stolen from the stores.

"...Little help?"

The blue jet shook his head, his own grin widening rapidly. "Sorry, you're on your own here, 'Raider."

"How is this even remotely fair? I don't do parties when I'm sober, I don't want to be here anyway, and _he's_ perving on my aft!"

Thundercracker shrugged. "I'm perving on his. It's a win-win situation."

"Oh, fragging goody for you. And in _my_ case?"

Skywarp squeezed his captive's hips a little tighter as he turned the corner into the refectory. "Well, two out of three ain't bad."

Nightraider's comeback was drowned under a wave of feedback from the speakers, a loud and somewhat varied chorus of swearing from all corners of the room, and the eventual blast of Chumbawumba from the decks.

The opening roar of Tubthumping ricocheted throughout the room before forcing itself out of the refectory, down to the sleeping quarters, and doubling back on itself before wafting its merry way up to the bridge.

* * *

On the security vidscreen, the Communications officer watched silently as Skywarp stared in horror at the oncoming stampede for the mosh pit, reached back, grabbed Thundercracker's arm, tightened his grip on the femme jet slung over his shoulder, and teleported out.

Reappearing less than a second later next to the makeshift bar at the back of the room, Nightraider tried to take a retaliatory swing at Skywarp, missed completely, and managed to whack an unsuspecting Onslaught on the back of the head. Looking completely unsurprised at the sudden appearance of the three jets, Mixmaster immediately removed the cubes from the blue jet's arms, shoved the majority into the refrigeration unit and went back to doing something fiddly with a Transformer-sized cocktail shaker and some pineapple chunks.

Studying the femme jet as she slid off Skywarp's shoulder and began to argue with the Combaticon leader, Soundwave tried and failed to hold back the little flicker of jealousy curling around his spark.

Bar his Cassettes, no-one had ordered him to go and be sociable. No-one had physically dragged him out of his quarters armed with high-grade and a demand for his company.

Then again, Nightraider was a femme, one of a comparatively small contingent among the Decepticons. And contrary to the Autobots' popular beliefs, they weren't simply kept around to act as pleasurebots, nor were they kept as second-class soldiers. Like the Femme Commander General Strika, the scientist Fracture, and the assassin Flamewar, Nightraider had earned her place among the Decepticons, along with the protection granted to all femmes under Megatron's command.

That, combined with the seemingly unnatural capacity that all Cybertronian medics possessed to hold their high-grade, made for a most...entertaining combination.

* * *

"One query, Soundwave."

The navy mech turned at the sound of his commanding officer's voice. Leaning back in his throne, Megatron helped himself to a gulp of ener-nog, and closely scrutinised the third in command.

"I am fully aware of your stance towards social gatherings, and the more than mutual enmity between you and the rest of my forces. However..."

The empty cube made a clunking sound as it was set down.

"...Popular rumour suggests that at least one member of the senior officers, namely one medic femme, would not be averse to seeing you present. And yet, you choose to hide in here like a frightened youngling."

If Soundwave had remembered how to squirm, he would have. Instead, he held his stance next to the monitors, but just a little too rigidly.

Imperceptible to most, but not to a former gladiator.

Megatron's optics narrowed.

"Well?"

"Situation:...complicated."

"'Complicated' in this instance meaning that Starscream's little boasting session wasn't a complete lie."

Soundwave sighed inwardly, and felt his discomfort rise another few degrees. "Starscream's boasts: unfortunately accurate."

Megatron's optics narrowed even further. "She was unharmed in spite of what occurred, correct?"

A rare glance into the silver gun-former's processor revealed that the answer should ideally be that the femme was undamaged, or else the second-in-command should be ready to make his excuses to Primus.

"Nightraider: unharmed, if annoyed afterwards. Both jets: currently operating within accepted parameters."

A brief silence fell over the bridge. Soundwave quietly studied the images from the refectory, blinking slightly at the drinking competition now running between Astrotrain, Blitzwing, Octane and Skywarp, while Megatron quietly studied the back of the Communication officer's head.

Time to make an educated push.

"So, if neither of them has shown any inclination to seek out each other's company again, why have you not made your intentions towards Nightraider clear?"

Idly, Soundwave wondered why the ground never opened up and swallowed a mech whole when it was required.

The Decepticon emperor tented his fingers together and let an irritated expression cross his faceplates. "She's an intelligent, capable, and not unattractive femme, who has made it quite clear that she wants _you_. And unless my information is wrong, she remains unbonded."

"...Information: correct."

"And the longer that she remains unclaimed, the more chances Starscream will have to make _his_ claim on her."

Rare fury blossomed in the Communication officer's CPU and quickly overrode his vocaliser. "Nightraider: individual, not property. Request: do _not_ refer to her as s-"

He realised only a second too late what exactly his leader was trying to do, and like a low-level shock trooper, he had managed to walk straight into it.

Megatron smirked and scrutinised the utterly mortified Soundwave.

"I will overlook this insolence on one condition. And I will make it an order, if necessary."

"Sir?"

"You will remain off duty for the next 24 hours. I would _suggest_ that you attend this party and make a few intentions clear towards Nightraider, lest Starscream get his hands on her first. I feel certain you're aware of how little Mixmaster's cocktail mixing skills leave to the imagination..."

The end of that particular sentence was drowned out as Soundwave strode off the bridge, a rare glint in his visor and his hands balled into fists.

* * *

As his third-in-command's footsteps eventually faded away into the distance, Megatron poured himself another cube of ener-nog and settled himself more comfortably into his throne.

All in all, a remarkably successful implementation of basic psychology.

And an extra 2,000 credits courtesy of Swindle if he'd called it right.

The sound of jets and a bird-like trill in the hallway brought him out of his thoughts. With another trill, Laserbeak swooped in through the doorway and hovered above the throne.

_That was somewhat cruel, but if it works, I doubt many will complain._

Megatron shook his head and raised his left arm so that the petite femme condor could perch on it. "I merely chose to remind him of a few basic facts regarding the fairer sex, as the humans would put it. If that's considered cruel, so be it."

Laserbeak lazily nuzzled the dark grey fingers as they stroked her beak. _And if a reminder of these few basic facts results in the untimely death of several mechs courtesy of one of your best officers?_

"I'll consider it an early Christmas present."

_What about the footage from the party?_

"Entertainment purposes. And why, may I ask, are you not participating in the festivities?"

_I simply prefer the quiet life. And the potential for intelligent conversation and pleasant company up here is far more appealing than being made to socialise with a bunch of mechs who can't even count how many limbs they have while **sober**._

Megatron let out a rare chuckle at Laserbeak's oddly appealing attempt at flattery. While he would normally make a concerted effort to hide his liking for the scarlet condor, the high-grade in the ener-nog and the absence of the bridge staff had relaxed his circuitry just enough for him to acknowledge their camaraderie. "What of our guest? Do we have any idea of her thoughts on the matter?"

_I don't believe there was much of a choice for her beyond getting drunk and partying, or getting more drunk and partying. Skywarp can be very persuasive when he needs to be. _

"Hmmm. And the actual reason?"

_He couldn't spike her energon without her tasting the sedatives._

* * *

The dance floor was now heaving with mechs, all in various states of overcharge, shoving into each other and trying to see who could spill the most energon. The fliers and the rest of the Constructicons had congregated on the fringes, while the more heavily armoured ground vehicles and the Stunticons had claimed the section of floor closest to the speakers, roaring along at the tops of their vocalisers to the Cassettes' chosen party soundtrack.

Half of the Christmas decorations had fallen off the walls and overhead beams at the first blast of heavy metal. Most of the mistletoe was somehow staying resolutely in place, while several of the less self-conscious mechs had wrapped a few squashed strands of tinsel around their helms and shoulders.

It was shaping up to be a pretty awesome party.

_I don't want to be here, I don't want to be here, I don't want to be here..._

Except for the one femme present, who was currently propping up the bar, wanting nothing more than to be hiding in her quarters with a book-pad, a cube of high-grade, and in her perfect world, reclining against a handsome mech.

Well, one handsome mech to be precise, and it sure as Pit wasn't Starscream, contrary to popular bitching.

Urgh.

This was hopeless. The one mech she wanted to be there...wasn't; she was being forced to enjoy herself, or in her optics, giving up control of her evening to someone else; and despite the somewhat epic amount of drinks she'd consumed, she still wasn't feeling anything more than a slight buzz.

Damn medical internal conversions.

Right. There was only one way to get through this party, and it clearly wasn't going to be anywhere near sober.

Nightraider held up her eighth cocktail cube, garnished with half a palm tree, a parasol and a bendy straw, and squinted at it. There was something odd, but quite pleasant about this one, moreso than the others, but there was just one thing missing...

Ah.

She waved a hand in the general direction of Mixmaster and held out the cube. "Serving monkey, my drink is empty. Refill now."

The master chemist looked down at the proffered cube, and back at the still-upright jet. "Is-is-is there a magic word forthcoming?"

"_Now_, before I remove your catalytic converter and make you eat it."

"Close-close-close enough."

A muffled groan drew the femme's attention away from the empty cube. Glancing down and to her left, she sniggered at the sight of the barely conscious Skywarp, resting his head against the side of the bar as it shook in time to Whiskey in the Jar.

"And you thought challenging a bunch of triple-changers to a drinking contest was a good idea because?"

The purple and black F-15 just groaned again. Thundercracker, still reasonably sober and looking far too amused for his own good, gently patted his wingmate on the back.

"Translation: Octane and Blitzwing accused him of being a lightweight. He accepted the challenge to his mech-hood, and...well."

The F-14 rolled her optics. "But he _is_ a lightweight. How many times have we all cleared up after him when he's gotten like this?"

"I understand it's one thing to accept it silently, while it's another to actually _say_ it."

"Uh-huh."

Skywarp summoned up just enough energy to lift his head and gaze blearily out of one half-lit optic at his two companions. "...C'n still hear yuz, yunno..."

Nightraider rubbed his shoulder and nudged his wings with hers. "We know dearest, we know."

The purple jet grinned, belched wetly, and proceeded to pass out on the disturbingly sticky counter.

The two jets studied their prone comrade while Metallica faded out and Alice Cooper wafted over the gathering. Common decency took over as they grabbed Skywarp's arms and managed to haul him over to one of the less collapsed sofas, where he promptly honked up half his tanks and then began to snore like a sparkling.

Nightraider stared at the pink and purple puddle by her feet, and sighed. "Just so's you know, you're on cleaning duty tonight."

Thundercracker nodded wearily. "I gathered."

He glanced at the dance floor, down at his wingmate, and back at the dance floor before extending a hand to the femme jet.

"He'll be fine in a while. Want to dance?"

Nightraider trotted over to the bar, grabbed her ninth drink, and wandered back to glumly accept the proffered hand.

"Yeah, what the frag. 'Snot like I'm gonna get a better offer."

* * *

"How's Batty?"

"Whassup?"

"How's Ratbat?"

"WHAT?"

"HOW'S RATBAT?"

The blue Cassette jabbed at his left temple and shook his head. "CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

"Oh fer the love of..."

Frenzy managed to yank Rumble's helm down to his mouth and bellowed in his audio. "HOW'S RATBAT DOIN'?"

"_Jeez_, you don' need ta yell! He's fine under there, aint'cha Squeaky?"

There was no reply from the cubby hole under the decks. Not exactly a surprise, considering how much sound-proofing equipment Ravage and Laserbeak had insisted on installing in the storage cupboard in order to protect their baby brother's more delicate audials.

The effect was negated slightly after the little bat had insisted on having a SNES and vidscreen installed as well, but the good intent was still there.

Frenzy sighed, wrenched open the cupboard door, and ducked into the cubby hole, nudging a half dozing Buzzsaw aside with an elbow as he checked on his youngest sibling. "Howzit hangin', lil' bro?"

Cuddled against a squashy cushion, Ratbat squeaked in delight, pride and a fairly massive onscreen explosion lighting up his optics. _I just beat Andross's Space Armada!_

The red Cassette nodded, his grin widening at Ratbat's happiness. "Nice work. You figured out how to get through the Meteor this time?"

_Shoot at things. Especially ships that flash a lot._

"Meh. Decent strategy, can't fault it."

Buzzsaw's head emerged from under his wings, his expression one of deep annoyance. _If you're **quite** finished?_

Frenzy looked askance. "What?"

_Close the door. There's an uncomfortably loud element of human culture out there, and it's one I really don't wish to experience._

"Hey, quit grumpin' Saw. We'll play the Birdie Song for ya if ya want!"

_I believe I shall survive without **that** particular honour. Now kindly go away._

"Ok, ok. Sheesh."

Frenzy retreated from the cubby hole and closed the doors over. "No pleasin' some 'Cons."

"Ah, I wouldn't say that too loudly bro."

Rumble pointed delicately at the black and purple truck thumping his way towards the DJ booth with a determined look in his optics and swaying with every step.

"Aww, _man_."

The red Cassette sighed and rifled through his mp3 stash until he dug out the correct track. "Three guesses what the Prime knockoff wants ta hear and the first two don't count."

Motormaster, fortunately, was too far gone to bother listening to the twins comments. "You two, Glitch and Glitchy-"

"Hey!"

"-Play the song."

Frenzy smirked up at the overcharged behemoth. "Y'know, _please _is a really underused word..."

He opted not to finish that sentence as Motormaster drew his sword and pointed it at the red Cassette's neck. "NOW!"

"...Meep."

Rumble quickly came to his twin's rescue and hit the mix button on the deck. Poison faded out and the opening electric guitar chords of 2-4-6-8 Motorway thundered out of the speakers.

"WHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOARGGHHHH!"

* * *

"...WHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOARGGHHHH!"

The roar of all the ground-based Decepticon troops made a deafening counterpoint to the sound of a stampede for the dance-floor. Soundwave only just prevented himself from doubling over at the noise as he entered the refectory, his optics now scanning madly for the red and black femme jet that hadn't yet had the dubious honour of witnessing this particular custom.

If she wasn't off the floor by the time the chorus started, her Christmas would probably involve a new set of shock absorbers and berth rest.

A flash of red and silver caught the telepath's attention. Starscream (Primus damn-him) had just appeared next to Nightraider, gesturing towards her feet and then to the drunken hordes on the dance-floor. Thundercracker, from what he could tell, appeared to be in agreement with his commanding officer, now frantically encouraging her to activate her thrusters.

**_"...Headlights shinin' drivin' rain on the window-frame, Lil' Young Lady Stardust hitchin' a ride..."_**

Too late.

With a speed he wasn't entirely aware he possessed. Soundwave lunged and hoisted the femme jet above his head, activating his own boosters just in time.

Every mech on the dance floor slammed their feet down hard in time to the beat as soon as the chorus crashed in.

**_"...TWO-FOUR-SIX-EIGHT ain't never too late, me and my radio truckin' on through the night!"_**

* * *

Ok.

Either the cocktails had finally kicked in, her thrusters had malfunctioned, or someone had seen Dirty Dancing one too many times.

**_"...THREE-FIVE-SEVEN-NINE on a double white line, motorway sun comin' up with the mornin' light!"_**

And since the first two would no doubt have warranted a severe concussion, Nightraider quickly concluded that a bitch-session would be in her immediate future. Or at least, once she'd found out who had grabbed her...

"Stunticon dancing; not beneficial to knee joints."

The femme jet blinked.

This was...a little unexpected. Not unwelcome, though.

"That much is kinda obvious. And you can put me down now!"

Under his visor, Soundwave smirked as Nightraider's mental whispers filled his processor.

_Not that you really have to, if you don't want to, I mean, I'm not gonna complain much or anything, or...fraggit, like I'm complaining at all-waitaminute..._

There was now definite feel-copping behaviour going on under her fuselage, and she had a feeling on what had caused it.

Nightraider folded her arms across her chestplates and glared down at her would-be captor. "Stop reading my mind!"

As the chorus, and the Stunticons' foot-stomps, thumped through the refectory for the second time, Soundwave simply dropped his arms and let the grumpy F-14 fall into his embrace. "Suggestion: stop thinking so loudly."

Carefully rearranging his hands so that he was supporting Nightraider under the back struts and knees, he completely failed to quash the rising tide of desire rushing through his circuitry as the femme made herself comfortable against the plastic tape-deck partition covering his chest.

This wasn't entirely unpleasant.

In fact, it was somewhere around the diametric opposite of unpleasant, particularly when the two DJs finally shoved All Alone on Christmas onto the decks, and Nightraider tentatively rested her head against his chest.

* * *

"Oh, do _spare_ me from being _sick_ into my own _scorn_."

Starscream and Thundercracker had glanced round at the sound of the Communication officer's familiar drone, the blue jet trying and failing to back a satisfied smirk, while the red and silver jet simply wore a look of utter disgust.

And true to form, the Air Commander chose to open his mouth without engaging his processor.

"You _still_ crave _his_ arms even after _one_ night with _me_?"

At the DJ booth, Rumble poked his twin in the head, and pointed frantically towards their creator and the three jets in the back. Inside the cubby hole, Ratbat and Buzzsaw instantly picked up on their siblings' emotions and burst out to join the twins.

Frenzy squinted for a moment, and then squeaked. "Things are now happenin'; get Ravage, and get the digi-cam!"

_I believe the phrase is check and check._

The red Cassette looked slightly shocked for a moment, and then squinted evilly at his brother, who had miraculously appeared from nowhere, looking completely refreshed and armed with the requested digital camera. "Ok, explain how you can do that?"

Ravage simply nudged the digi-cam round with a paw to record the altercation on the dance-floor, and looked smug. _Feline intuition. Never underestimate it._

* * *

Thundercracker frowned at his other wingmate's choice of words. "C'mon Starscream, leave her alone already."

Unfortunately, Starscream wasn't going to be stopped that easily. Hell, he didn't even particularly _like_ the black and red jet, but she was a _femme_, he'd had her first, and he wasn't about to get thrown over in any way for a glorified groundpounder with a vocaliser borrowed from a vacuum and all the personality of a dial tone.

"Then _again_, you _never_ had _taste_, _even_ back in the _Academy_. _Dreadnought_, _Skyfall_, _Aquablast_, _Crosscut_; _some_ even say _she's_ had _Shockwave_."

In Soundwave's arms, Nightraider was already struggling to sit upright, intent on murder, or at the very least, on causing extreme pain to the handsome F-15. Soundwave himself was now rather torn between letting her go and enjoying the resulting carnage, or holding onto her and attempting to verbally defend her honour.

"And _even_ after all of _them_, she _threw_ her career _away_ for a _mech_ who didn't have the _brass_ to make her an _offer_, and a _band_ of mis-sparked _drones_ that should've _all_ been _extinguished_ before they were _onlined_."

Starscream smirked at the pair, Nightraider now standing beside Soundwave, her frame shaking with anger. Soundwave's visor was scarlet with barely concealed rage.

"Order: _shut up_."

One more word, one more gesture, even a look, and he was going to rip the jet's wings from his fuselage.

Fortunately, Starscream had never been able to resist a parting shot.

"You _realise_ you could have had _the_ future Decepticon _leader_ rather than the Monotone _Monolith_, or perhaps _sloppy_ _seconds_ are more to his _taste_?"

* * *

10 minutes later...

Even with three security cameras running in the refectory, it was almost completely impossible to tell if it had been Nightraider or Soundwave who had thrown the first punch at Starscream.

Either way, the Air Commander was going to be sporting some lovely dents in his armour for the next few days.

Perching on the security console, Laserbeak's delight was almost tangible. _They have stopped fighting, if it's of any consolation._

Megatron didn't bother removing his hand from in front of his optics. "There may well be words said later to Soundwave about retaining his dignity even under extreme provocation, and not all of them will be repeatable."

_Will you be attempting to reprimand Nightraider as well?_

The gun-former glanced down at his avian companion, irritation slowly being replaced with extreme amusement. "Only for not finishing what she started."

On the primary monitor, Mixmaster stared down at the unconscious Starscream and what remained of his drinks collection after Soundwave had pitched him headfirst through the bar, shrugged, and shoved the jet out of the way with his foot. Swindle and Brawl quickly stepped in and heaved the F-15 towards the door, optics alight with more than a few impure intentions.

_It looks finished to me._

Out of the corner of his optic, Megatron spotted the two victors making a swift exit from the refectory, Soundwave pulling Nightraider out by her wings, and the femme jet digging her heels into the floor, hands stretched out into claws and making a few desperate swipes in Starscream's general direction.

"The fight, yes. The situation your creator and our guest are now in, possibly not."

* * *

Blessedly, the observation dome was empty, most of the aesthetically-geared mechs currently decorating the floor of the refectory with their own energon.

Nightraider sat next to the reinforced glass, her knees drawn up to her chest and her faceplates drawn into an expression of utter mortification as she stared blankly into the blackened depths of the Pacific Ocean.

She just tried not to think. Thinking hurt too much right now.

Only Starscream. Only he knew how to press all of her buttons at once. Only he could piss her off that much, and still be alive after a three-way smack-down.

And even then, in all the times he had managed to earn himself a beating, he had always known never to mention anything relating to her time at the Academy.

And especially to never mention any of it near Soundwave, ever.

A cube of heated mid-grade appeared in her line of sight, held by a familiar navy hand.

"Drink."

Soundwave settled on the floor next to her, his face inscrutable as always under his face mask and visor. Under the mask however, his CPU was whirling.

Most of Starscream's insults had verged on a predictability that was almost amusing, but one part had struck him as being something more than just petulant rage.

"Query..." He shook his head and began again.

"What did he mean by you throwing your career away?"

The femme jet knocked back the cube in one gulp, and let her head fall back against the glass. "Do we have to do this now? I don't feel drunk enough to start spark-searching."

Soundwave simply gave her a Look and ran a quick scan on the contents of her holding tanks.

"You are aware that all of those cocktails were low-grade with added flavouring to cover the taste?"

"Whaaaaat?"

"You are almost completely sober, and I have no intention of letting you get overcharged before I get some answers."

"Uuuugh..._fine_. But after this, I get to kill Mixmaster."

Nightraider lowered her optics and stared at the floor, trying not to feel sick at the memories flooding her processor.

"After Ratbat was stable enough to leave the medical centre, the Academy Council summoned me. Just a quick discussion, nothing drastic, they said. If you could call a reaming in front of the entire academic body about unnecessary surgical procedures and 'overwhelming concern' about my medical practices as 'nothing drastic'."

The Communications officer scrutinised the femme jet. "They disciplined you?"

"...They expelled me."

His optics widened under his visor. "Without a hearing and for those reasons?"

The femme jet chuckled humourlessly. "You're not naive, Soundwave, don't even try to pretend you are. Most of the Council mistrusted me because I was one of the military models. Too undisciplined to be a proper medic, too flighty to be a good scientist, they said."

She let her gaze shift to her knees. "The tension between Vos and Tarn had escalated and the purge of all the military units was taking place across Cybertron. They had the perfect excuse to get rid of me, and they took it."

Soundwave shook his head. "There would have to have been a vote, or some form of counsel available for your defence."

"The only one present for me was Shockwave. They kept Hook, Scrapper and the others away from the meeting, and chose not to summon my professor."

"A show trial."

"I was called a patchwork medic, only out to prove my own thesis, with little to no regard for anyone else, and risked the lives of you and your creations with unnecessary surgery. And that was without the accusation of being involved with an 'unnatural mech'."

There was a soft scrape of metal against metal as Soundwave moved to sit next to Nightraider.

"Even Shockwave could have defended you against such accusations."

The F-14's faceplates twisted. "He did."

"And?"

"They accused him of collusion and expelled him as well. They never trusted him, and they didn't like his scientific methods or his alt-mode. But...yeah."

Something was still missing. Something was being deliberately left out.

"Had you been given a chance to redeem yourself?"

"Yep. And I told them to cram it."

Off of Soundwave's look, Nightraider managed a smile. "They asked me to surrender all my research, and all of your personal and residential details, and those of the Cassettes. Since you had left the Academy before Ratbat was onlined, they didn't have the chance to expel you. But the security forces were very interested in you. _Deadly_ interested. The digi-pen pushers would've loved to get their hands on you, try and replicate the symbiosis process for their own purposes, and get rid of a telepath who they never trusted."

"And yet, they did not."

"There was an _unfortunate_ accident with the Academy mainframe computer just before the meeting. All my research at the facility was lost. Irretrievable."

Under his mask, Soundwave smirked at the unspoken implication. "A great tragedy."

"Indeed. So they added sabotage to my record and reduced my medical license to intern level before they threw me out."

The room fell silent as Nightraider studied her empty cube, and Soundwave studied the femme beside him. What she had said had made a horrible amount of sense.

The security forces, later the Autobots, had expressed both interest and concern at his career, both as a scientist and as an unbonded creator, not to mention the anxiety over his telepathic abilities. When he was rendered sterile after Ratbat was onlined, the concern over his suitability to be a creator had increased tenfold, up to the point where the Tannis Youth Sector outside Iacon had made an application for full custody of his creations.

He and his family had gone underground that night, seeking protection and power within the group of gladiatorial Pit-fighters led by a brash and brave young ex-miner.

"...Why?"

Nightraider remained silent.

"Why suffer that kind of ill treatment, that loss, simply for me?"

Another humourless chuckle emerged from the femme jet's vocaliser. "I'd've thought it was kind of obvious."

She sighed and looked down. "So that your creations would still have a creator. So that you would stay alive. So that...I'd still have you around."

Soundwave was silent for a few moments, trying to process all of the information the F-14 had revealed. When he finally spoke, his tone was almost hesitant. "And...what do you wish me to do now?"

"Anything you want."

The femme jet stood up, not looking at her companion. "I'm not a hopeless romantic, and I'm not expecting to get swept off my feet here. Especially not now that you know...everything. I mean, if you...want to do something on the basis of, y'know, _what_ you know, that'd be great. If not...I-"

She cut herself off before her voice could break.

"I'll take you any way I can get you, Soundwave. Even if it's just as a friend."

* * *

Nightraider wrapped her arms around herself and shuttered her optics. The lack of response from Soundwave was enough.

Over 100,000 vorns of hoping and wanting and waiting, and she'd blown it.

Or rather, Starscream had blown it for her.

And now all she could do now was try to be dignified in her defeat.

* * *

"Nine million years."

She opened her optics and turned at the sound of the Communication officer's voice. "What?"

"108,000 vorns would be just under nine million years. Technically, we have known each other for that length of time. You hid that knowledge from me for over eight million years."

Nightraider's grip on her emotional centre was almost non-existent. "And?"

Soundwave's visor burned crimson. "You gave me my family. You gave me and my creations eight million years of existence that we might not have otherwise experienced. You protected and cared for us at the expense of your career."

The navy mech stood up, his heavier frame towering over that of the femme jet, and placed a hand against her cheekplate. Nightraider simply leaned into the touch like it was a lifeline.

The pull on both their sparks was now undeniable. Soundwave rested his helm against Nightraider's, and let his other hand settle against the curve of her hip. "And you ask what I want to do now?"

The F-14 smirked and studied him with half-closed optics. "Well, one or two suggestions do _leap_ to mind."

"And I have every intention of implementing those suggestions to their fullest."

A sound not unlike a purr emerged from Soundwave's vocaliser as he pulled the femme jet to his chassis.

"But for now, I believe I should start by doing something I should have had the _'brass'_ to do nine million years ago."

* * *

TBC


	10. Part 10: Smut warning!

A/N: Trying to hit a self-imposed deadline is insane frankly. But trying to write about falling for someone and falling for each other mutually hard is a lot easier, especially since I'm doing it myself. ^_^

* * *

Disclaimer: Nightraider, Dreadnought and Crossfire are mine. Hands off. The Transformers are the property of TakaraTomy and Hasbro. Abuse away.

Warnings: See Chapter 7 and add the appropriate follow-through. Very much M-rated for this part with potential sticky, so no-like no-read and you know where the back button is.

_Italics_ denote telepathy/thoughts.

* * *

**Presents: Part 10  
**

* * *

On a normal day, the 10-foot radius surrounding anymore than two of the Cassettes was considered to be the direct entrance to the seventh circle of hell, and possibly to the third level of the Pit, to which most were convinced that Rumble and Frenzy had laminated pass-cards.

Being the little island of calm in a sea of drunken revelry wasn't a normal state of affairs, but on this occasion, the five assembled beings were actively enjoying it.

Frenzy leaned back against the turntable, his head nodding in time to the music, and contentedly sipped at a cube of mid-grade.

"So, anyone wanna take a stab at what's happenin' now?"

Ravage, who was stretched out on top of one of the speakers, looked askance. _Aside from a band of unspeakably drunken mechs collectively staggering and purging in time to I Can't Dance - the irony of which cannot be ignored?_

The red Cassette rolled his optics. "With the boss and Raider. C'mon, Soundwave blocked us out like twenty minutes ago, but he ain't pissed or anythin'."

His eldest sibling raised an eye-ridge. _And how, pray tell, are you so certain of this?_

Rumble pointed delicately down at the floor of the DJ booth. Cuddled next to a deeply relaxed Buzzsaw, Ratbat was staring at the tinsel-covered ceiling, optics bright with happiness and making the occasionally chitter of glee.

"The lil' guy knows the link even better'n us. If the boss ain't happy, Batty can pick it up 'cross a telepathic block and two orbital states. And does he look even th' teeniest bit bothered?"

Said Cassette let out a delighted chirp and turned his gaze to his older brothers. _It's gone away! It's gone so far away it's like it's not there at all!_

Buzzsaw tilted his head. _What has gone away, little one?_

_The loneliness! Soundwave's not lonely like he was before. It's still there a little bit, but not like it was!_

Rumble and Frenzy exchanged glances, and then shared them with Ravage and Buzzsaw.

"Ya don't think...?"

"Nah, they ain't done it yet, we'd know. But...whoah."

The black feline carefully ran his glossa over a paw. _Indeed, but then, what would you define as it?_

The blue Cassette rolled his optics, but chose his words carefully for Ratbat's sake. "Gettin' their freak on after Primus knows how long, c'mon!"

Carefully in this instance covered the _slightly_ more tasteful euphemisms for interfacing, but not by much.

_After this amount of time, I highly doubt a bit of fleeting physical pleasure is what either of them intend to have._ Buzzsaw ruffled his wings, careful not to knock into his blissed-out baby brother, before taking off into the air and perching on an I-beam.

The twins both prepared to sneer...and their optics widened in perfect sync as the meaning behind the golden condor's words sank in.

Frenzy was the first to try to work his vocaliser. "...Ya really think they would? I mean, y'know...do _that_?"

_If by that, you mean bond, there are numerous good reasons as to why they shouldn't, and at least one excellent reason as to why they should._

Ravage flexed his claws, idly jabbed the turntable, and settled back with a very feline smirk on his faceplates as All I Want for Christmas tinkled out of the speakers.

A small hint never hurt anyone.

But the increasingly badly-thrown cocktail beakers probably would.

* * *

Probable concussion fortunately wasn't a concern of the Communications officer at that particular moment in time.

It no doubt would have involved being somewhat more vertical than his current position, the ability to give a slag about the world outside the observation dome, and interested in something other than the femme jet reclining in his arms and resting her back against his chest.

His face-mask now retracted, Soundwave smirked in contentment and deliberately traced his fingers over the seams of Nightraider's cockpit, earning a hum of contentment from the F-14.

"Are you feeling somewhat less lightheaded?"

The red and black jet reached down and wound her hands around Soundwave's navy digits. "When I said I was falling for you, I didn't mean it literally."

"I would hope that 'literally' would also be twinned with 'figuratively'."

Nightraider let an amused smile spread across her faceplates. "I thought I'd implied my feelings pretty fragging clearly in both instances."

"Perhaps. But..."

The navy mech reluctantly removed his hands from hers and carefully turned the femme jet around so that she was pressed into his side, her hands digging into his chest partition and her helm resting against his. One leg hooked over his thighs, while the other pressed tightly against his own legs, the feel of her thrusters creating a not-unpleasant sensation in his mid-section.

"...There is something infinitely preferable about _vocally_ stating your feelings, rather than merely implying them or my reading them from your thoughts."

"I thought I'd told you to stop poking round my mind."

She closed her optics and fought back a shiver of pleasure as she felt his fingers slowly tracing the cables controlling her spinal relays at the back of her neck.

Soundwave let out a low hum from deep within his vocaliser. "If I am not granted permission to read your thoughts, then I must settle for mere implication. And therein lies the inherent problem. However, some physical displays of implications do have their advantages. Thusly..."

His fingers purposely tweaked the one neck cable he had committed to memory, rewarding him with the vision of Nightraider tilting her head backwards and arching her entire body towards his, letting out a delighted moan at the feedback working its way through her system.

"Your responses would indicate enjoyment, but equally they could indicate injury. Without telepathy or even a word of assent, I will remain uncertain as to whether my actions produce pleasure or pain."

Fighting desperately through the fog settling over her processor, Nightraider opened her optics and stared at her tormentor, studying his faceplates and visor before reaching a decision.

She hoisted her body and settled herself over Soundwave's torso, straddling his hips for balance before leaning in close and placing a brief kiss against his cheekplate.

"Then...I suggest you continue with what you were doing."

His visor darkened. "With which particular action? This...?"

Navy fingers wound their way into her neck cables, tugging and caressing in equal measure, sending static racing through her circuitry.

"Perhaps this...?"

His free hand traced delicately over the faction symbol on her left wing. The sensation alone was enough to make her scream.

Soundwave tilted his head in consideration at the now-writhing femme astride his hips and smirked. "But no. I believe it may be this..."

The hand at the back of her neck moved forwards to cup her chin, the thumb slowly tracing the outline of her lips. She relaxed at the press of his other hand against her back, leaning over him and feeling the recycled air from his vents washing over her face.

One last courtesy held him back from completing his actions. He gazed up at the femme, her chin still in his grasp, and paused.

"Do you...consent?"

Nightraider still had enough presence of mind to shoot him a Look. _Consent?_

Alright, screw the seductive mush.

Her fingers looped around Soundwave's neck collar and pulled his head up to meet hers.

"How's _this_ for consent?"

The kiss that followed quashed any doubts in Soundwave's mind as to what precisely his femme wanted in that moment.

And after so many millions of years, he was only too willing to oblige.

* * *

On the bridge, the Decepticon emperor spared only a glance at the vid-screen before returning to the meticulous calculations on his data-pad.

108,000 vorns multiplied by the original bet, with the additional compound interest, keep the time in stasis, plus the extra 2,000 for naming the date, minus the 10 percent cut for Swindle...

"...I believe your creator has just earned me 17,656,842 credits. Impressive work by any standards."

Laserbeak kept her head resolutely turned away from the screen, her emotions vacillating between a bout of extreme embarrassment, a healthy dose of amazement, and overwhelming, irrepressible joy.

_Only you, sir, could put a price on domestic happiness._

Megatron merely raised an eyebrow.

"I have a wounded and preferably unconscious Air Commander, mostly superficial damage to the refectory, the majority of the Decepticon Earth forces suffering either severe energon poisoning or the hangovers of their lives, and two senior officers who have finally sorted out their personal lives after 10 generations and an extended stasis nap. I consider the better portion of 18 million credits to be a reasonable trade-off."

_So the rumours are true. There is one little soft spot under the armour._

"The term you're looking for is a moment of uncustomary good sentiment."

_Hmmm._

The silver gun-former levelled a brief, flat look at his avian companion before his optics wandered over to the image on the vid-screen.

And stopped.

And widened.

And stared.

Laserbeak studied Megatron's optics for a moment, and risked glancing behind her.

_Oh dear **Primus**..._

Her own optics widened in disbelief.

As one, both Transformers' heads tilted to the extreme left while they studied the image before them.

"...Well. I believe that answers one question about Seeker...sensitivity."

The femme condor squinted in mild revulsion. _That is something I could've gone the rest of my existence without ever witnessing._

"You should deem your creator to be wise for taking a femme's needs into consideration. Especially those of a Seeker femme."

_I am. I do. I'm also considering that the observation dome has no door lock mechanism, and if my calculations are correct, and my knowledge of both the twins' party playlists and the average timeline of previous social gatherings is also correct, then the drunken conga-line through the ship should be starting in about five minutes._

No emotion was visible on the Decepticon emperor's face-plates, but Laserbeak could tell that his processor had latched on immediately to her implication and was having a small moral issue.

Well, not so much a moral issue as a wish to not to have to bleach his own processor.

Most of the army would no doubt be more than willing to witness one of the femmes in an intimate moment, and that same proportion would probably not wish to be privy to one of Soundwave's conquests. Since these two instances were one and the same now...

Slag it.

"This will be done for reasons of taste only. Nothing else."

Knee joints creaking slightly, Megatron raised himself from the command chair, exhaled briefly, and marched off the bridge towards the observation dome.

Optics now firmly averted from the vidscreen, Laserbeak watched the gun-former's movements, and let a very rare warble of glee slip through her vocaliser.

_Naturally sir. **Whatever** you say._

* * *

Somewhere in the back of Nightraider's CPU, a little subroutine popped up and asked if this was precisely the place for this particular event to happen. Not that it wasn't grateful, mind you, this was something the subroutine, the rest of the CPU and all of the femme jet's fuselage and spark had desired for millennia. But just maybe the floor of the observation deck might not be the most practical of locations for a long-overdue interfacing.

The sub-routine quickly realised it wasn't about to get a response any time soon and made itself scarce as Nightraider started to acquaint herself with the intimate details of Soundwave's tape-deck and chest plating.

The plastic partition seemed so insubstantial under her fingers; the opacity was slightly less than that of transparent aluminium, and the density was negligible.

But the Communications officer did make the most intriguing sounds whenever she traced the edges of the frame.

Straddling her prone partner's hips, the femme jet carefully ran her fingers over the tape deck structure and down the sides of his torso, deliberately brushing against any pistons or exposed circuits she encountered, and felt her own circuitry burn as Soundwave arched into her touch.

The navy mech fortunately wasn't being reticent about returning the caresses. His hands were firmly attached to her hips, his fingers sliding over the joints in her legs and scraping the metal of her pelvic plating hard enough to leave rather distinctive white scratches.

A firm slap to the aft-plates made the F-14 arch her back, ball her hands into fists against his chest, and bite her lower lip. Her interface unit was overheating, enough for Soundwave to feel it every time she thrust against him.

Not that he could comment. He was already sparking, and this time, he fully intended to complete his actions.

One navy hand slid up the femme jet's fuselage until it reached her shoulders. Opening her optics enough to focus on his face, Nightraider leaned down until she was on her hands and knees, her face inches from his, and his visor crimson with desire as he pulled her down for another kiss.

She could feel him smirk against her lips. "Hmmmh...you are...overheating already?"

"Can't -mmmmh- help it, you...have a way of...doing that..."

He scanned her frame, looking for a few more delicate areas to stimulate. Her wings and thrusters still needed a little more attention...

But it wouldn't hurt to ease some of his femme's heat.

The hand at the base of the femme's neck slid downwards, pausing here and there to tweak an exposed wire, finally halting at the scorching pelvic plating covering Nightraider's interface unit. Running his thumb over the hottest area, Soundwave was rewarded with a squeal-cum-moan at the touch, and decided that any further teasing would just be cruel.

He managed to activate the latch on the plating and slid back the blistering metal. His fingers confidently caressed the sparking circuitry, earning another squeal of pleasure, before two digits once again located her port and pushed into her.

Hard.

Nightraider just managed to retain her balance at the invasion, but the wave of feedback alone nearly pushed her over the edge. Biting her lip and shutting her optics, she thrust down against his hand, his palm taking her weight, his digits probing even further inside of her. Just at the edge of her awareness, she felt Soundwave nudge her helm with his, pressing her head to one side and tracing his glossa over the pistons in her neck.

She could have coped with that alone.

And then she felt his free hand teasing the sensors at the base of her wings, sending more static roaring through her circuits and steadily bringing her closer to an overload of epic proportions.

Through the waves of pleasure, the F-14 summoned up her filthiest smile. So her mech liked to play dirty?

He of all mechs should have known why you never played dirty against a medic. Especially when most medics could give as good as they got.

One set of black digits slid down Soundwave's torso and traced the edges of the Play button on his pelvic plating, drawing what could only be described as a purr from the navy mech.

It upped quickly to a growl at the feel of the plates retracting, and smaller, but no less powerful fingers, began to delicately trace over the pronged head of his interfacing leads. A few passes, and the hand wrapped around the leads and squeezed just hard enough to render him completely powerless, the sensation only adding to the long-forgotten mix of pleasure-pain building in his interfacing unit.

If he hadn't been helplessly aroused, he would have called this torture.

Torture happened three seconds later when the femme let out a low chuckle, tightened her grip, and began to stroke him. And none too gently either.

Trying desperately to muffle the groan building up in his vocaliser, Soundwave buried his face in Nightraider's neck pistons, biting down on the over-sensitised wiring and pressed his palm against the plating covering her pelvic frame. A few seconds of rifling through his database, and the bass speakers in his arms activated, the subsequent vibrations travelling through his hands and fingers, and into Nightraider's port.

Nightraider lasted less than a minute before the feedback loop completed itself and forced open all pleasure/pain receptors throughout her frame, the overload crashing through her systems and tearing into her CPU with the merciless ferocity of a meteor shower.

She flung her head back and screamed.

* * *

Red and black winged frame now limp, still bearing down on his hand and thrusting hard, back arched, head thrown back, her optics screwed shut and crying out in sheer ecstasy...

The sheer sight of the femme in overload was almost enough to make Soundwave join her in that same electric bliss.

Almost, but not quite.

But now he understood exactly why Starscream (Primus-frag-him-with-a-pitchfork) had been only too happy to finish...that which he had left incomplete.

* * *

Her prolonged wail trailing off to gasps of pleasure at the aftershocks still bombarding her system, Nightraider slumped forward, one hand on her mech's chestplates, the other firmly gripping a now-sparking set of interface leads.

She opened her optics at the feel of fingers against her cheekplate, and turned her face enough to kiss Soundwave's palm. Exhaustion prickled at the edges of her consciousness, but it was quickly tempered with satisfaction and another emotion that she wasn't willing to voice let alone think, lest Soundwave hear it and abandon her once again.

A smile slowly spread across her faceplates as she studied the mech straddled beneath her wings.

That was just from his touch and his hands alone. If he was capable of that...well.

Round two was looking even more appealing.

The smile grew wider. Withdrawing his fingers from her port, Soundwave mirrored the expression as he picked up on a few stray thoughts from his femme's processor.

If she thought he would even consider leaving her after that, or the emotion she refused to name...

He rested his other hand against her hip, fingers slowly tracing the scratched and dented metal.

"I fear I may be losing my touch."

"Oh, _really_." Nightraider injected as much sarcasm as was inhumanly possible into the last word.

"Indeed. I had intended to offline you."

The F-14 let out a rare giggle. "Maybe I'm just more resilient than you'd thought."

"Perhaps."

The hand on her hip rose to her waist, his palm pressing into the curve of her fuselage just so.

"But I still intend to offline you before the night is done."

She settled herself against his chest, her frame stretched atop his, and their faces barely an inch from each other. "I'll be holding you to that..."

A quick squeeze of the leads in her hand resulted in a deliciously aroused noise from the navy mech.

"Along with something else."

The familiar tingle was starting to build up in her port once more. Pressing a kiss onto Soundwave's lower lip, Nightraider raised herself to lean over her mech's prone body and squeezed the leads once more.

"Now...what precisely would you like me to do to _you_?"

* * *

"Well, one or two suggestions do present themselves..."

Any and all amorous intentions died immediately at the sound of the gun-former's voice. Nightraider instantly reared up, shoved herself away from Soundwave and slammed the latch on her pelvic plating shut, while the Communications officer made a tactical retreat to the darkest corner of the room at something approaching light-speed, re-covered his own interface unit, and activated his face-mask.

Choosing to ignore the assorted clanks and muttered cursing from the two senior officers, Megatron kept his optics firmly directed towards the ceiling, his face-plates betraying none of his amusement.

"If neither of you are intending to rejoin this gathering, I would advise you both to attend to the docking tower. Maintenance Team One reported that the lift mechanism is presenting a tendency to jam once the tower and platform have risen. The team also reported that the lift could not be recalled from the tower base, only from the platform itself."

Even a sparkling could pick up the hidden message in that statement. And, despite the lust clogging his processor, Soundwave immediately picked up on the insinuation, and chose to act accordingly.

"Repair time estimate: approximately eight Earth hours."

Nightraider gave him a Look.

"Error in original estimate: approximately _nine_ Earth hours."

The femme jet rolled her optics and moved towards the doorway, taking the utmost care to avoid even glancing at her commander as she passed. Similarly, Soundwave made a discreet exit directly behind the jet, sighing inwardly at the sheer mirth radiating from Megatron's CPU.

As the two sets of sedate footsteps echoed through the hallway, the Decepticon emperor risked a glance at the backs of his two subordinates and shook his head. Tapping his proximity alarm, he made a few quick calculations based on the _Nemesis's_ schematics and the ever-approaching noise of Black Lace one floor down.

"The conga line has apparently left the refectory, so I would suggest making haste."

The echoing footsteps turned instantly into a dual sprint, and eventually faded away as the duo turned a corner.

* * *

Excellent. With the soft-spark lapse now over, it was clearly time for a little reminder of the price he was paying for granting two of his best officers a measure of privacy.

Activating the observation dome comm. system, Megatron ran a quick scan of the Arctic Circle and its environs, and picked up the dual comm. signals he required.

"_Nemesis_ to Polar Station One. Battlechargers copy."

* * *

Inside their mech-made cave in the glacier covering the north of Ellesmere Island, a very cold and very unimpressed Pontiac Firebird stopped sulking long enough to answer his comm.

"Runamuck receivin'. Still no sign o'th' fat red'n'white dude. Can we come back now?"

He was persistent; the gun-former had to give him that.

"Negative. Do you recall the precise chain of events which led to your imposed exile on festive sentry duty?"

"Th' precise what-now?"

Persistent like a case of cosmic rust, and about half as smart.

Runabout finally deigned to join the conversation. "He means, d'ya remember why we got stuck up in th' freezin aft-crack o' nowhere, dude."

"Well, yeah, we were tryin' ta mix nitrous oxide wit' energon ta give it a lil' extra kick."

The black Lotus Esprit bounced on his suspension. "Inside th' base."

Unseen by any of his crew, Megatron rolled his optics. "And note those words 'inside the base', gentle-mechs. If I had desired an extensive flame-fuelled remodelling of the secondary rifle range, it would have created less structural damage had I simply kidnapped Wheeljack."

Runabout muttered something which could possibly be construed as a "yes sir, sorry sir, won't happen again sir." Runamuck however, was not to be deterred.

"So when can we come back? My cam-shafts're colder th'n a polar bear's junk an' these snow-tyres don't do slag on snow."

"You have your orders. Follow the NORAD tracking system, take out this Santa Claus being and the organics that power his aircraft, and then we will discuss your return to base."

A duet of resigned grunts greeted his words. Closing the link, Megatron let his head briefly fall back and shuttered his optics. Festive sentry duty, or just sentry duty during social gatherings, few ever realised, was about as much fun for both parties as a catalytic oil-change through the exhaust pipe.

At the head of the corridor, the conga-line led by Scavenger finally appeared in one all-singing, all-purging, all-kicking cacophony, liberally decorated with energon and spray-on snow.

The Decepticon emperor opened his optics, sighed, stepped into the blessedly empty observation dome, removed an emergency cube of high-grade from his subspace, and settled in the nearest chair as the conga-line danced past.

"I work with idiots."

* * *

The wisps of cumulus clouds were at least doing something to cool her circuitry, if not her sense of amusement. Performing a wide barrel-roll, Nightraider soared through the Pacific night sky beside her utterly mortified companion and tried not to snigger too loudly.

"Oh, come on. It was at least a teeny bit funny, you have to admit that!"

Soundwave folded his arms across his chestplates and exhaled. "Our commanding officer finding us, as the humans would state it, _in flagrante _on the floor of the observation dome. Yes femme, utterly hilarious."

Still flying alongside him, the F-14 transformed, rolled onto her back and shot the Communications officer another Look.

"It's not the worst thing that could ever happen. Besides, Megatron can hardly take _me_ to task for it after what I saw _him_ getting up to in the gladiatorial circuits."

Soundwave risked a glance at the smirking femme, optics slightly fearful. "...Lord Megatron?"

"What did you think the 'Structies and I got stuck repairing when there weren't any matches on? Believe me, those mechs weren't innocent in _any_ way. Megatron wasn't as bad as, say Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, or the Dynobots and Combaticons, but he wasn't exactly curling up every night with a data pad and a warm cube of energon either."

The expression on Soundwave's face had immediately bypassed fearful and moved straight into mortified.

"I do not suppose you may be exaggerating at this point?"

Nightraider looked askance. "Ok, you were in the circuits for far longer than I was. _How_ can you have possibly missed the orgies of bloodlust or just _plain_ lust?"

"I had my duties."

She sniggered. "Duties that completely barred any possibility of a quick interface?"

"The only one whom I wanted in that way, I did not want merely for a quick interface."

The red and black jet drifted close enough to run a hand down Soundwave's arm. "So what _did_ you want them for?"

* * *

He didn't miss the sound of her internal circuitry heating up, nor could he ignore any longer the dull ache of pleasure-pain still building under his pelvic plating.

Landing was now of the utmost importance, lest his self-control gave out and he just took her right there in the nearest cloudbank. Calling up his GPS program, Soundwave scanned the surrounding area, offering a silent plea to Primus for a half-decent landmass, a medium sized island, even an oil-rig would work if it was empty.

Answering his prayers, the scanner beeped. The Hawaiian island of Kaua'i, nine miles southeast. Deserted northwest coast.

Perfect.

* * *

The Kalalau Valley, even by Cybertronian standards, was a stunning area of coastline and cliffs. Warm and sheltered, it was home to some of the more intriguing species of flora and fauna on Earth, and as an added benefit, was completely inaccessible to human transport.

For two increasingly aroused Decepticons however...

"I'm fairly sure getting sand up my thrusters wasn't part of tonight's plans!"

Standing in the shadow of a cliff-face on a patch of scrubby grass, Soundwave sighed.

Swearing in somewhat creative profanity, Nightraider finally appeared over the lip of a lower crag, irritably shaking a healthy portion of the beach out of her heels and glowering at her intended.

"What was wrong with the dirt trail? It was solid, y'know, _no_ sand?"

Soundwave chose not to rise to the bait, and simply tilted his head to study the cliff-face. "We are in need of a solid surface. This precipice will perform the necessary function."

The femme jet shot him a flat look. "And the necessary function would be?"

In one movement, the Communications officer pulled the F-14 to his chestplates, hoisted her upwards, whirled round, and pressed her into the rocks.

Her legs instantly scissored around his hips, pulling him into her arms and grinding his now scorching interface unit against hers.

"This."

His mouth was on hers less than a second after he had slid back his face-mask. Bracing herself against the cliff-face, Nightraider thrust her hips against his, feeling the same prickle of static building in her systems as his hands gripped her aft. Heat raced through her circuitry, forcing her to bear down with desire and arch her chest up in longing, the fire coalescing in her groin and around her spark.

The lust was now so great that it was a physical ache in his interface unit, bolts of want/need/desire shooting through his spark and setting the old scars alight. Hands now shaking, Soundwave managed to pull back just enough to remove both sets of pelvic plating, shivering as the night air hit his interfacing leads.

His femme simply clung to the rocks, optics lidded, panting with desire, legs wrapped around his hips, and her port now white-hot.

She thrust her hips against his, mewling at the feel of his leads against her port. _"Please..."_

He pulled her body upright, head to head, chest to chest, groin to groin.

"This...may not be...comfortable..."

Nightraider had retained enough of her processing power to sit up and glare at him. "What?"

"I do not...wish to hurt you."

_Oh, for the love of...!_

She gritted her dental plates and leaned back against the cliff, bracing her shoulders against the rocks.

Her irritation was punctuated with agonised gasps of need. "I am _NOT..._some weak, little _AUTOBOT_ femme who can't take...a bit of _pain_ with their _pleasure_...So help me Soundwave...if you don't 'face me **right now**, I'll-"

The threat she was intending to end the sentence with was lost forever as Soundwave's visor flared crimson, as nine million years of patience gave out.

He raised her hips and thrust into her.

* * *

_OhPrimusohPrimusohPri**mus**_...

Nightraider's mouth fell open in shock, a shriek tearing out of her vocaliser at the sudden invasion.

Soundwave hadn't been kidding about the comfort level. One glance had already told her that he was rather more blessed in that particular department than most of the mechs she knew, but she was choosing to take that as a bonus. Her port was struggling to accommodate him, but along with the inevitable burst of pain, the first waves of electric friction began to appear.

She closed her optics, gritted her dental plates, and slowly thrust down against him, the ache still present, but fading with the movement.

It was taking most of Soundwave's self-control not to pin her down, or even to move with her. She had to be the one to indicate when she was suitably relaxed, and he would do nothing without her consent.

Besides, watching her take her pleasure, listening to her gasps and feeling her legs around his waist and her port around his leads was an experience he would be copying to every drive and memory node in his processor.

* * *

Arms locked behind her mech's head, and pleasure feedback slowly building in her systems, Nightraider pressed herself against Soundwave's body and brought his head down to hers, half-kissing him with each thrust. His face-plates were contorted in a half-snarl half-gasp, his control strained to the limit, but still willing to claim her mouth with his. She could feel him trembling as he tried to check his movements, unwilling even to support himself against the cliff-face in case he interfered with the internal port connection and harmed her in some way.

It was unlikely, but the consideration was appreciated, and if she timed this right, then his patience would be rewarded...

At her command, the sockets at the back of her port opened, sparking with raw electricity. In that same moment, Nightraider braced herself, and thrust down onto Soundwave's leads hard enough for the pins to slide into the sockets, completing their physical connection.

The feedback from the connection threw Soundwave onto his knees, Nightraider still wrapped around him, both now howling in ecstasy. His control finally broken, the navy mech sent a heavy pulse of energy through the connection, producing another shriek as the femme returned the pulse with full strength.

Something crackled and exploded with a pop inside the F-14's body at the next pulse. Soundwave's own circuitry was starting to smoulder, a faint ring of smoke surrounding the two Decepticons as pulses volleyed between their bodies, fighting to drive each other to overload first.

As for their sparks...

"...Soundwave..._please_..."

Nightraider pressed one hand to her mech's chest, feeling the heat from his spark chamber scorching her palm. Her own spark was pushing to the front of its chamber, an eerie blue-white light starting to emerge from underneath her cockpit plating.

Almost insane with desire, she frantically ran her hands over his plating, trying to find the latch for his spark covering, black fingers leaving equally dark ruts in the navy armour.

"Are...you...sure...?"

Navy fingers covered hers and squeezed tightly. Although he was at the brink of overload, Soundwave still possessed enough sense to know that what his femme wanted; frag it, what _he_ wanted, was risky enough. With a spark as damaged as his, it was a step into the unknown. He could easily extinguish his own spark, not to mention Nightraider's spark, or those of his offspring.

"...Yeah...are you?"

The navy mech thought for a few seconds, his optics tracing Nightraider's features. Every time so far this night that he had asked her about the potential danger, about the pain he could inflict on her, she had taken the lead and proven that she was entirely unafraid of the pain if it was worth it to her.

She trusted him completely, a rarity amongst the Decepticons.

The risk to her, and to the Cassettes, was all too real. Something in his spark however, was telling him that it wasn't his time to rejoin the Matrix. Not like this, and not with an all-too-willing femme astride his hips.

With a thought, the panels of his spark chamber rotated and retracted into his armour, an unearthly blue-white light bathing the pair.

"...Yes."

Carefully leaning back onto the scrubby grass, still connected to Nightraider, Soundwave watched in growing anticipation as the femme straddled his hips and retracted the glass canopy of her cockpit. Her spark was streaked with silver, the unscarred twin of his own.

His hands found her hips and pulled her down towards his chest. Her spark barely an inch above his chamber, Nightraider paused for a moment and traced her fingers over his faceplates, her optics now filled with desire and the emotion she didn't want to voice.

Another rare smile crossed her faceplates. "...If you...die in there...I'll kill you."

"...I have...no intention...of doing so."

That smile was the last thing he saw before his vision filled with white.

* * *

The sensation of peace flowed through her processor, making her aware of the soft clicks and hums of power within her frame.

This was rather pleasant. Quite comforting in a way, but a sharp change compared to what she was doing before...

_So, where am I again?_

Deciding to risk opening an optic, Nightraider squinted out at her surroundings, and felt mild confusion bubble through her CPU.

_...Okay, this is new._

White. An absence of colour so intense that she had to activate her solar filters.

No ground. No walls, no ceiling, no sky...just white.

She stretched her arms out in front of her and studied them closely. No scratches, no dents, no telltale navy paint scrapes. A quick study of the rest of her frame resulted in similar discoveries.

Interesting. She still didn't feel panicked, or sick, or anything out of the ordinary. If anything, she felt warmer, almost protected in a way.

A soft pulse echoed through the emptiness, adding to the sensation of warmth against her plating, and growing stronger as she floated.

The whiteness wavered for a moment, and the 'sky' reformed into two globes of brilliant silver, pressed into each other hard, and knitted together with tiny white tendrils of energy. On her left, the sphere was a clear blue-white under the shimmering silver, while on her right, the slightly darker blue sphere was marked with vicious streaks of red and grey, almost slicing through the shimmering light.

It took her a moment, but the realisation hit her like the proverbial tonne of bricks.

_This is the link. This is how he communicates with the Cassettes._

Two white and navy arms appeared at her sides, wrapping around her waist and pulling her back against a familiar chest-plate.

_And now...this is how I will communicate with you._

Nightraider leaned her head back against a broad shoulder, her optics closing as Soundwave, his face unmasked, pressed a kiss onto her neck. His visor was still crimson, and his plating warm as he held her.

_This is the link, the source of my abilities. These bodies..._

Here he ran a hand down Nightraider's torso.

_...they are the best representation of our spirits within the link._

The F-14 opened her optics and pulled out of his embrace, but left her hand holding his. Tilting her head slightly, she studied one of the giant spheres for a brief moment before turning back to him, her gaze curious.

_So...those orbs are...?_

Soundwave nodded his head first to the left. _You..._

Then to the right. _...and I._

Nightraider turned back and squinted for a moment before her optics widened in surprise. _Those are our sparks?_

_It seems the link activates itself during a sparkbond. Unsurprising._

Images flooded her processor. Soundwave privately communicating with his Cassettes on the battlefields of Cybertron and Earth, the closer conversations between a creator and creation...the dark intelligence of Ravage, the quick-witted, flighty thoughts of Laserbeak and Buzzsaw, the exasperation and pride in Rumble and Frenzy, and the absolute sparkling-like innocence of Ratbat...

She pointed to the orb on the left.

_Then those marks...what are they?_

The ether-Soundwave studied her for a moment before raising a hand and pointing upwards to the red scar.

_Ravage._ That first pain as the feline's spark separated from his, and the pride shared by both the medic and the scientist at his clever creation, with an intelligence so keen that he was considered deadly before he had taken his first wobbly steps, clinging to his creator's leg...

The golden scar to his left.

_Rumble and Frenzy._ The two sparks filled with so much life, humour, and mischief that it was impossible to ever imagine them as once being a single spark...

The amber scar nearest to their feet.

_Laserbeak and Buzzsaw._ His only femme, and her shining brother, both so curious, so vicious, and yet still so innocent...

He braced himself for a moment before gesturing to the widest scar, a dead looking grey with traces of deep red.

_...And Ratbat._ The tiny scraplet who never should have survived, but with the unconditional love of his creator and siblings, thrived and grew into a brave, if insanely spoiled, little fighter...

A small gasp escaped the femme jet's vocaliser.

_...The Cassettes. The scars from where their sparks were separated._

_Yes._

She stared at the scar left by Ratbat's near fatal delivery. Guilt and anger wrapped themselves around her spark and squeezed.

_I gave you all of those. I almost killed you..._

_Nightraider..._

Soundwave's avatar gathered the jet to his chest-plates again. She trembled in his arms, optical fluid spilling down her cheek-plates as she began to sob.

_I almost killed you! Ratbat's scar nearly pierced your lower spark core, one more nano-millimetre and I could've..._

_Nightraider..._

The tears flowed faster.

_You made me do that. I'm a medic, I'm meant to heal and protect. You **knew** what I felt for you and you made me nearly kill you; do you even KNOW how that feels?_

Soundwave's embrace tightened at the deluge of memories. The utter fear as he had gone into spark-shock, the last desperate slash as Ratbat was separated, the dread as she approached his creations and told them the news, the pain of telling him his chance to spawn new life had been ended, the image of Shockwave holding the femme up by her shoulders as she retched up her tanks, finally collapsing into the gun-former's arms and screaming out her grief on his shoulder...

_...Yes._

She rested her head against his chest and tried to stop her tears.

_...Every mission that I send the Cassettes on, I know there is a genuine risk that they might come back grievously harmed, or that they might not come back at all. If that ever happened, I know that their deaths would not only kill each other, but me as well. They will never show it, or even let themselves think about it, but they feel it. They risk killing me by their very existence, and yet, I would not have it any other way._

She sniffled. _...Why?_

_Death would be preferable, rather than living whole and unscarred without them. I was fully aware of the risks when I asked you to perform the parthogenetic procedures. Just as I was aware of the risks in bonding with you. What I gain from having you within my spark and my existence within yours outweighs all else._

She gulped and shook her head, wiping a hand across her optics.

_...You took that kind of risk for me?_

The unasked question hung in the air between them like a curl of smoke. Soundwave eventually sighed, and brought his hand underneath Nightraider's chin, forcing her optics to meet his visor.

_Because I did not wish to be alone any longer. Because you are the only one I have ever wanted. Because my not taking that risk when I first realised my feelings for you left the both of us incomplete and alone for so many millions of years._

Nightraider closed her optics briefly, and smiled at the last wave of thoughts. The last glance they had shared before his ill-fated departure onboard the _Nemesis_, the sheer ache of grief and loneliness for so long, the image of Shockwave collapsing, energon pouring from his tanks as he writhed on the med-bay floor, the rage as a tiny lavender and silver sparkling was denied the love from his creator he so desperately needed, the unbridled delight at that communication to Shockwave less than a quarter of a vorn ago confirming that the _Nemesis_ crew lived, that blissful, almost insane moment in the weapons upgrade ward, the frankly ridiculous party only an hour ago...

_Not so alone now._

He carefully traced her cheek-plates with his fingers, resting his helm against hers.

_I believe I have nine million years of waiting to make up for._

She chuckled. _It better not be in **just** one night._

His mouth closed over hers with a purr of arousal. The whine of two sets of chest plates retracting reached their audials, the shared light almost blinding in its intensity.

_Every night that I can have you, I will be making amends for my lack of action._

She smiled through the kiss, knowing he could feel her lips curling under his. _Starting tonight?_

Their avatars connected, spark to spark.

_Starting tonight._

* * *

Onboard the _Nemesis_, Ravage stiffened, let out a yowl of surprise, and keeled over sideways.

Twin squeaks emerged from Rumble and Frenzy's vocalisers, the shared sensation in their chests driving both of them to their knees.

On the bridge, Laserbeak lay twitching on her side, letting out the occasional cheep of delight.

Buzzsaw, optics bright with rare glee, decided to obey the laws of gravity and plummeted out of the air above the DJ booth, crash-landing onto his elder brothers.

Ratbat had been knocked offline at the entry of the femme jet into the link. He had eventually come round just enough to realise what he and his siblings had all felt, and fell offline with a rodent smile on his face at the final burst of sheer feeling from his creator, and his creator's sparkmate.

Leaning against the DJ booth, Thundercracker cast a speculative optic over the present company, smirked widely, quickly poured himself a cube of mid-grade, and made a toast to the air.

"Well, let it be said of you guys that, when you two bond for eternity, you sure as Pit don't do it halfway."

* * *

TBC


	11. Part 11

A/N: And we're officially onto the home stretch following the smut, so it's back to normal service and a PG rating.

* * *

Disclaimer: Transformers, not mine. Nightraider, Dreadnought and Crossfire, very much mine. No borrowing. Also, there's one little reference to 'Merry Christmas Everybody' by Slade. I don't own this either.

* * *

**Presents: Part 11**

* * *

In his lengthy existence, the miner-cum-rogue-cum-gladiator-cum-terrorist-cum-Decepticon Emperor had always known that there was a universal chain of command. He'd fought his way up it since he had attained his majority, subverted it, and essentially made it his bitch.

In human terms, he felt that would be a respected and feared elder. Or at the very least, he'd be someone whom others considered it wise not to frag off.

Checking his internal chronometer for the fifth time in as many minutes, Megatron continued to glare flatly at the docking tower doors as he waited for the return of the AWOL Communications officer and Femme CMO.

Admittedly, it had been only 15 hours since he had effectively ordered Soundwave to attend the warped excuse for a party, with his fellow party-goers now thankfully silent and lying in rather foetid energon puddles throughout the base...but still.

12 hours of being the only sober mech on base hadn't exactly done wonders for his temper.

Even trying to get a sensible conversation out of Laserbeak had been a complete waste of time, as the femme condor seemed to have reverted to sparkling-hood following her and her siblings' synchronised collapse.

And he had a particularly apposite theory as to what had prompted said collapse...

CLONK

Ah.

CLANGCUTHUNK

"Nyaargh!"

"Nightraider: injured cranial unit?"

-Bzzt-

"Ooooh, there's gonna be swearing..."

-HRMRMRMRMRMRM-

With a fairly horrendous crunching of gears, the docking tower began its slow retreat into the less-than-tepid Pacific waters.

Since he was unable to throttle something as of yet, Megatron shifted his stance slightly and settled for folding his arms across his battle-scarred chestplates and keeping up the flat stare at the docking tower doors.

-HRMRMR**MRMRMRM**-

And three, two, one...

CRASRRREEEECUTHUNK

The lift number panel lit up an irritatingly cheery red as the docking tower came to an undignified halt, the 'ping' of the doors opening luckily masked by a chorus of profanities from the more vocal of the two occupants.

Megatron chose not to comment for the sake of his far-too-sober sanity.

Unfortunately, one look at Soundwave's paint job as he emerged from the tower told the Decepticon emperor all he needed to know, and a certain amount that he could have happily gone the rest of his existence without ever wanting to know.

The Communication officer's normally immaculate navy arms and chest-plates were liberally covered with scratches, some with streaks of black and red paint embedded in the metal. Similar marks were more obviously present around his pelvic plates and upper leg plating, and a surreptitious glance at his back revealed further grazes and several dents that looked as if they could only have been created by a femme's hands.

The two black handprints on his aft plates confirmed everything Megatron had dared to think.

If Soundwave heard any of his commanding officer's mental processes, he chose to ignore them. His attention was focussed entirely on the smaller frame of his companion as she came into view.

Megatron spared the femme jet a single glance before shuttering his optics and exhaustedly rubbing the bridge of his nasal plates.

Nightraider's paint job had fared slightly better than Soundwave's, but not by much. Navy, white and ochre paint chips had lodged themselves across her hips and chest plates, and her chest plates in particular were covered in scratches, right along the joints and behind her cockpit where...

Where...oh sweet _Primus_.

The silver gun-former managed another glance and succeeded in keeping his expression neutral.

Apparently it hadn't been just a little _physical_ relief that had occurred.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, femme and gentlemech, but I distinctly recall a mention of nine hours being required for you to adequately...complete repairs to the tower mechanism."

Soundwave was desperately fighting the desire to squirm like a trapped turbo-fox. "Recollection of time duration: correct."

"And yet, according to the ship's chronometer, the pair of you have been absent for 12 hours."

Nightraider managed to rustle up a suitably contrite expression. "...Yes sir."

"I now ask you this - do either of you know how _long_ 12 hours is? Particularly during a social event?"

A combined murmur of "yes sir, sorry sir" and "regret for inconvenience caused: sincere" met his audials.

Deciding finally that it was too early/late in the day for any further cyber-spleen venting, Megatron simply let his faceplates slide into a Look, exhaled and nodded in the general direction of the officers' quarters. "Soundwave, you will complete your remaining off-duty hours and then report to the bridge as normal. Nightraider, you will no doubt be urgently required in the med-bay, if the general state of the Decepticon Earth forces is any indication of how last night's gathering went."

Another chorus of affirmative mumbling, and the two officers started making their way towards their quarters.

It didn't hurt to redress the balance of the status quo every once in a while, normally every half hour or so in the case of Starscream, but there was something to be said about being able to assert his authority with barely a glower where his more intelligent senior officers were concerned.

And speaking of his second-in-command...

The Decepticon emperor felt a smirk crawling across his faceplates as he raised his voice just enough to catch the F-14's attention. "Femme CMO."

The femme jet turned just enough into indicate acknowledgement. "Sir?"

"I would recommend that your first patient be our illustrious Air Commander. Sensors indicate his current location as being somewhere between the ships' labs and the Level 7 waste disposal racks."

Nightraider's features flickered in initial confusion before the meaning behind the order sank in. A truly evil smile lit up her faceplates – one that Megatron chose to pretend he hadn't seen, and one that caused Soundwave's spark to pulse just a little faster.

It was good to know that his femme could be a vengeful bitch when she wanted to be.

* * *

"Are they back yet?"

_No._

"Are they back yet?"

_No._

"Are they back yet?"

_No!_

"Are they back...now?"

_No._

"Whaddabout now?"

_I said no!_

"Now?"

Ravage resisted the urge to dig his claws into the crimson Cassette's back and twist.

_Frenzy. Do you like having your vocaliser intact?_

"...Yeah?"

_Excellent. Would you like to keep it that way?_

Feeling the rare need to stick up for his twin, Rumble glared at his eldest sibling. "What happened t' 'peace on Earth and goodwill t' all mechs'?"

_Clearly God didn't have to deal with having two pain-in-the-aft brothers irritating him every three seconds, or else he'd have skipped the roasted dead bird and just gone straight to Boxing Day._

The feline spy shot a rare apologetic glance towards his avian siblings. _No offence intended._

The twins briefly shared a smirk before Frenzy piped up. "Hey. If you're gonna be like that, then me 'n Rumble're just gonna take your present back."

Safely perched on the ledge above Soundwave's berth, Buzzsaw cocked his head at his brothers and clicked his beak in amusement. _Just out of interest, how exactly would you take back a present you stole during a supply raid?_

"'Saaaaawwww! Ix-nay on t' ole-stay!"

"Yeah, what he said...I think."

With his Bo-bo wrapped around his wings and his Santa hat hanging off one pointed audial, Ratbat kept his optics glued to the door, his tiny frame almost vibrating with excitement.

_Ravage?_

The black and silver Cassette gratefully turned to study his youngest sibling, hiding his amusement at Ratbat's happiness.

_Yes, little one?_

_Does this mean we have two creators now?_

Ravage carefully considered the question as he picked Ratbat up by his scruff bar and settled him between his front paws. _...Not exactly. Soundwave is our creator, nothing will ever change that. But Nightraider...she assisted in our onlinings, and looked after us as if we were her own, but she is not a creator in the way that most sparks are created. Perhaps a co-creator would be the best description._

The little bat looked thoughtful. _So she'd only be a creator if she and Soundwave both created our sparks?_

Laserbeak, perching next to her respective eldest and youngest siblings, delicately pecked at a speck of dust marring her right wing. _Strictly speaking, yes. But we were all created in quite unusual circumstances, and based on what apparently occurred last night, I believe that Nightraider will be more than happy to take up the other half of the creation bonds with us._

Ratbat carefully pondered this, optics narrowing slightly as he thought, then widening as he twisted his head back to stare up at Ravage.

_But Soundwave always said he made us by himself. So...how would __**two**__ transformers create sparks?_

The jaguar Cassette's optics widened in panic. Not this. Anything but this first thing in the morning.

_...I...would suggest you ask Soundwave, when he returns._

_But I asked you!_

The HUD text message which quickly appeared on the other Cassettes' visual displays simply read: _Get me out of this._

Rumble and Frenzy traded matching grins before the red twin piped up. "Nuh-uh kittykat, he asked you, so you gotta answer."

_And why, pray tell, do __**I**__ have to answer?_

"After what was goin' round Darkmount the first time you an' Howlback got freaky? You better not start sayin' that was jus' rumours."

The sound of the door sliding open fortunately saved Frenzy from an intimate meeting with his elder sibling's claws as the very welcome form of Soundwave appeared in the doorway, covered in paint scratches, dents and scrapes. The slump in his shoulders told them all that he was almost ready to fall offline, but the glow in his optic band was enough to confirm his impending recharge would be very well deserved.

Rumble took the lead, his face-plates almost split in two by his grin. "Ok, so some mechs do th' Stride of Pride after a big night. You're kinda workin' the Slump post-Hump, if y'know what I mean... "

The Communications officer refrained from rolling his optics. "Rumble, silence."

The red Cassette took over without a pause. "Seriously, did she work ya that hard?"

"Frenzy, likewise."

Ravage, Ratbat and Laserbeak all quickly shifted down the berth to make space for their exhausted creator, the little bat and the femme condor watching him with desperately inquisitive optics, and the jaguar feigning calm indifference, but studying him with equal curiosity. Rumble and Frenzy quickly scrambled onto the berth and parked on his kneecaps, scrutinising him with expectant delight. Watching from his perch above the berth, Buzzsaw's optics were comically wide with anticipation.

Soundwave propped his back against the head of the berth and returned the Cassettes' looks in turn, sensing their almost-pained expectancy through the link at what his next words might be.

Silently, he opened the still-tender bond to Nightraider, and let her hear his announcement, just as they had planned.

"...Where there were once seven in the link, now eight reside."

In less than a spark-beat, all six Cassettes had leapt on their creator with a delighted chorus of whoops, squeaks, caws and yowls.

* * *

Right. This was going to work.

This was going to _work_.

If Primus existed, surely he would make this work...

Squinting painfully out of a cracked optic, Starscream managed to pull his head up enough from the lab table to take a mouthful of the ominous-looking green fluid in the beaker before him.

Sip.

Swallow.

Suppress gag reflex.

"Uuuuuuuugh."

The renewed throbbing in his temples was enough of an indication that Primus wasn't in one of his more gracious moods. But at least this one was mildly better than the previous energon and tomato juice cocktail.

Praying another exhaust flush wasn't in his immediate future, the woozy Air Commander shakily pulled a blue human-sized box towards him and scrutinised the contents. Frag dignity, it was time to see how the fleshings coped in times of hungover crisis.

"...Take _two_ tablets, dissolve in _water_, _drink_ mixture...they _couldn't_ have made it a MORE _obnoxious_ colour?"

So if two tablets worked for the average squishy...Starscream shook his head, his CPU thumping as he did so, and proceed to dump the entire contents of the box into the beaker. The mixture began to fizz and turned a violent shade of turquoise.

Offlining his olfactory sensors, the red and silver F-15 managed to sit upright, braced himself and prepared to down the remains of the beaker's contents in one...

"You can take that stuff if you want, but I doubt you'll want to feel the after-effects."

Oh _slagging_ joy.

The Air Commander painfully swivelled round until he could shoot a death-glare at the smirking, sober, and all-too-smug-looking femme leaning comfortably against the doorframe.

"Kindly _frag_ off _femme_. I _wish_ to _die_ in _peace_."

Nightraider pushed herself away from the doorframe and strode into the lab, failing to repress a grin of satisfaction as she leaned over her fellow Seeker's shoulder and ran a scan on the contents of the beaker.

"Peppermint, thalidomide and...whatever the Pit the fizzy stuff is-"

"-Alka-Seltzer-"

"-I'd say, yeah, you _won't_ be dead. You'll just want to be."

She finally got a decent look at Starscream's face and fought valiantly to repress a sniggering fit. The Air Commander's usual flawless visage was sporting a completely dead optic, the other cracked and flickering wildly, a broken nasal structure, and more than a few cracked cheek-plates. The rest of him wasn't much better. Dents and grazes marred his fuselage, the fist-marks around his fuel-tanks about the right size and shape for a tall femme and a slightly bulkier mech to have made them.

The F-15 sneered at her expression. "_Proud_ of yourself?"

"Prouder of Soundwave, frankly."

The sneer deepened into a dark scowl. "Half-breed freak _glitch_."

This earned him a sharp slap to the helm; the subsequent scream of pain and the am-dram fit the slap produced provoked absolutely no sympathy in Nightraider. Wrapping her fingers around the back of Starscream's neck, the femme jet hoisted her commander upwards and hissed into his aching audial.

"He's still more of a mech than you'll ever be, '_Screamer_."

Even half-hanging from the femme jet's grip and waves of nausea rolling around his system, Starscream refused to back down from the apparent threat to his mech-hood. "Oh _really_? Has he _plugged_ you _yet_ or is he _that_ much of a _new-build_ that he doesn't know _what_ goes _where_?"

Nightraider's anger morphed quickly into a crushing desire to get one-up on her bondmate's behalf. Removing her hand, she let Starscream drop down to land on his workstool, then raised her right leg and shoved the stool backwards, moving swiftly to stand between his knees and lean over him with a smirk.

"First part? Check the scrapes. Second part? All I'll say is never underestimate a telepath."

The Air Commander was now visibly seething. "You actually _plugged_ a _ground-pounder_ when you _could_ have had the _Prince_ of _Vos_."

"Sweetspark, you just invaded my city-state a few times. You never had any desire to annex it. And besides, what femme in her right mind would swear fealty to you?"

"You _INSOLENT_ little-!"

To his credit, Starscream did make a rather graceful lunge at the femme's throat. Until his gyroscope opted to give out and the resulting lurch of nausea made him keel sideways off his stool.

Sidestepping the cursing jet now hugging the floor, Nightraider glanced at her sedative guns, then down at the silver F-15, and sighed.

"Since this is getting rather pathetic, I'll make this short and sweet."

Kneeling down beside the prone mech, the femme jet withdrew a neon blue vial from her subspace, opened the chamber on her sedative gun, and carefully tapped a bare sprinkling of copper sulphate into the syringe. At her feet, Starscream moaned and dug his fingers into the tiles, praying quietly for the sweet release of death if a hangover cure wasn't forthcoming.

"Head to the right and brace..."

He felt the pressure of her palm on his helm, the pull of his neck pistons being stretched, a dull thud and the sting of the needle as it pierced his secondary energon line, the mixture making a beeline for his holding tanks.

The low rumbling ceased almost instantly, along with the sickness in his tanks. Slowly pulling himself into a sitting position, Starscream cautiously realigned his gyroscope and sighed in utter relief.

"Ok, so that worked. Interesting."

"Define _interesting_."

Nightraider removed the old needle and flicked it into the chemical waste disposal with one hand, re-holstering the sedative gun as she did. "Usually this stuff has some of our best shock troopers curled around a waste disposal talking to Primus."

"_Weaklings_. But then again, I _am_ the Decepticon _Air_ _Commander_ and _thus_ I am _made_ of _stronger_ cybertonium than most of the..."

He blinked.

"Than most of the _brainless_..."

He stopped and audibly swallowed.

'...Than most of the _brainless_ _morons_ who..._ohPrimusnooooo_-'

Starscream clamped a hand over his mouth and made a desperate lunge for the door. The rest of his declaration of glory was lost in the depths of the chemical waste disposal under the inimitable sound of chundering.

"Hmmm. Still a bit too strong then. Ah well."

The black and red jet calmly inspected a paint chip on her arm, and then sauntered out of the lab, pausing only to pat her commanding officer on the helm as she passed.

"Give it 15 minutes and just remember to fall to the left when you're done."

Starscream's only response was to weakly flip the bird in the medic's general direction.

* * *

"Make it stop make it stop make it stooooooo-uuuuuurghhhhhuaaagh-"

Thundercracker's faceplates were screwed up in complete disgust as he patted Skywarp's back, trying to ignore the sounds of retching and half-processed high-grade hitting the bottom of the bucket in his lap.

"You do know that since this is completely self-inflicted, you are getting absolutely no sympathy off me whatsoever."

The purple and black jet managed to pull his head away from his trusty bucket and gave his partner his best kicked bumble-puppy optics. "But I feel icky and it's Christmas and I love you."

"How long are you going to keep playing the bondmate card?"

Skywarp affected a queasy grin. "As long as it takes."

Thundercracker rolled his optics and glanced at the near-Empty form of Scrapper as he shuffled past the berth, his optic band flickering ominously. "And how much longer do I have to act as a nurse-bot?"

"Probably a lot longer than my ability to give a frag." The Construction leader let out a noise that could be construed as a belch, shuddered, and quickly pushed Skywarp's head to one side as he emptied a syringe of chlorpromazine into his main energon line.

"Give him ten minutes, let him empty his tanks, and then he's officially your problem."

The blue and black F-15 stared at the front-end loader's back as he staggered off. "Wow. What happened to the caring face of medicine?"

Nightraider chose that moment to walk into the medbay looking far too pleased with herself. "Methinks Ratchet may have shot it. So now you've got us."

Skywarp moaned into his bucket. "Oh fragging Pitfire, she's happy. Make it stoooooop."

Thundercracker and Nightraider shared a Look. "So how bad on a scale of one to please-grant-me-the-mercy-of-death is he?"

"He promised he'd be good sometimes."

The F-14 squinted at the back of Skywarp's head. "So feeling like slag, but should live to see tomorrow."

"Pretty much." He leaned back briefly to take in the battered form of the femme CMO, a smile slowly making its way across his faceplates at the marks on the black and red fuselage, right before he opened a private comm. line.

-Ok. I'm not stupid. Clearly there was at least one round of hide-the-gearbox last night, but unless there was something _seriously_ kinky going on, you shouldn't have scrapes around your cockpit. Now I can take a guess here at what happened, but I'd like to hear it from you...-

-You just want to see me squirm, don't you?-

-Check the insignia. I doubt it's gone red.-

Nightraider snorted and weighed up her options. On the one hand, Thundercracker was one of the more honest mechs, he could be relied on to keep a secret, and he had looked after her after some of her more idiotic moments. On the other hand...he was bonded to Skywarp, with all the drawbacks said status entailed. And the official policy on sparkmates for both sides was meant to be one of don't ask, don't tell.

Not that the Decepticons had ever followed it.

She leaned against the berth, resting one arm on Skywarp's back and ignoring the subsequent moan of pain. -I can neither confirm nor deny that there might have been a bit more than one round of bump'n'grind last night. Neither can I confirm or deny that this may have involved sharing something more than just circuitry.-

The blue and black jet flashed her a grin. -Thought as much. The Cassettes passed out en mass at 23.17 last night. Figured you two had something to do with it.-

Skywarp's voice suddenly echoed up from the depths of his bucket. "Yeah yeah yeah, you pushed Soundwave's play button, he did you so hard your plates bent, you two had a spark-t'-spark, and now you're stuck wit' him and the six Heralds of Unicron for all eternity. Can we get back t' me now, please?"

The F-14 shot a glare at her friend and closed the comm. line. "What happened to making this a _private_ conversation about my _private_ life?"

Thundercracker sighed. "Like so many things around him, it went public."

Skywarp waved a shaky fist. "Damn straight!"

* * *

Ah, sweet life-giving energon; warm and smooth, fulfilling cravings one barely knew one possessed. Truly the nectar of the gods.

Well, maybe the soft drink of the gods when served in a so-called amusing mug with the strange red and white clothed human dropping his trousers, but frankly Megatron wasn't about to complain, and no-one else would risk commenting.

Leaning back in his throne, the Decepticon emperor cast a glance at the myriad of images pouring to the control room from the global spy-cams and the early evening news broadcasts. Assorted world leaders were making the usual speeches of goodwill and peace on Earth, several news channels were covering a failed bombing in Europe and an attempted political assassination in the Middle East, and the European Space Agency was in something of a flap after a planned satellite signal from its latest Mars rover had failed to materialise.

Then again, considering the state the Beagle 2 rover had been in after it had been scraped off Astrotrain's hull two months back, it was probably better they hadn't received a signal.

Half of the English language channels were showing either A Christmas Carol, It's a Wonderful Life or The Great Escape, and several others were showing various music videos, shots of the Church of the Nativity and adverts for something called the Boxing Day sales.

Hard to believe a species descended from single-celled organisms could make one seasonal holiday so fragging complicated.

Thankfully most of the ship was silent, the majority of the Decepticon Earth forces either sleeping off the previous night's debauchery, lying half-comatose in the wash-racks, or collapsed in the repair bay complaining of imminent shutdown before sunset; though he could think of at least two members of the troops who would benefit from the comparatively peaceful atmosphere.

And speaking of which...

"Megatron to Soundwave."

A brief pause, then a whisper of static filled the air before the Communication officer's monotone vocals echoed through the link. "Soundwave receiving."

"Report to the bridge. Leave the symbiotes."

"Affirmative."

Megatron had long since accepted that it would happen at some point. Out of all the senior officers, Shockwave not only had no interest in either mechs or femmes, but had a hugely spoilt and unstable sparkling to boot; any femme foolish enough to bind herself to Starscream in any way would engender only a sprinkling of pity and a unending supply of merciless taunting; Obsidian and Strika had been bonded long before they had joined the Decepticon cause, and while he and Flamewar had enjoyed a few brief encounters back on Cybertron, the fact of the matter remained that a relationship beyond that of master and servant would only endanger them both.

If either Soundwave or Nightraider had chosen to become involved with a member of the lower ranks, he could have easily pretended not to notice, but if they had indeed bonded, as he believed, it would place them in a precarious position.

"Lord Megatron."

The silver gun-former pulled himself away from his thoughts and calmly regarded the still-battered form of his Communications officer. Soundwave stood before the dais at immaculate parade rest, his shoulders straight, and his optic band glowing a clear, steady orange.

"At ease."

The navy mech's shoulders slumped ever so slightly, but he kept his gaze and stance steady. After his and his femme's return this morning, he had anticipated what would likely come next, and for once, he would be slagged if he would be remonstrated for it.

"I acknowledge I do not _want_ to know to the full answer to this, but for the sake of security, it must be asked. You and Femme CMO Nightraider have sparkbonded. Yes or no?"

"Yes, sir."

"You are aware of the risks and repercussions, both professionally and personally, of this action?"

"Yes, sir."

"If it was asked, would either of you relinquish this bond?"

Soundwave's visor darkened. "No, sir."

"No?"

"Affirmative."

Megatron cast a piercing glare at his third-in-command. "Even if the Chaos Bringer himself returned and demanded this action?"

"In that..._unique_ circumstance; would like to see Unicron try."

The Decepticon emperor could feel a smirk threatening to lift the edge of his lip components.

"And you are aware that I cannot fully condone the shared actions of yourself and Femme CMO Nightraider?"

"Nightraider and myself; both aware."

"Then this status change will be noted in both your records, and Nightraider will be required to inform General Strika upon her return to Cybertron."

"Understood."

Megatron nodded sharply and gestured towards the communications console. "Then attend to your duties. And Soundwave?"

The navy mech glanced over his shoulder as he moved towards his station.

"Nightraider is a rarity. Treat her as such."

"Advice; unnecessary but appreciated."

* * *

Three hours later...

"It's a _Christmas_ _tradition_, you rusting _fool_!"

Unfortunately for all, Starscream was back at partial operational capacity, and full snark capacity.

Megatron simply glowered from his throne, arms folded across his bulky chest. "And it just so happens that this _tradition_ involves me relinquishing my power for a day to a subordinate."

"_One_ fragging _day_! What could _possibly_ result in my _possession_ of _unlimited_ power for _one_ _day_?"

There was a particular phrase on the internet which appeared primarily on chat-rooms and online journals to summarise the perceived idiocy or predictability of another person's actions. Rumble and Frenzy had come across it about a year ago and took a certain amount of glee in both using it and trying to perform it.

Right now, Soundwave still wasn't entirely sure if a Transformer could headdesk properly, or if it was even possible to do so on the communications console, but the action was now sounding incredibly tempting.

"I believe you have just answered your own question, Starscream. And it will be clarified with the phrase 'over my rusting corpse'."

The Air Commander flounced off towards the door, wings quivering in petulant rage. "It _will_ be _arranged_, my _lord_, _trust_ me!"

-BEEPBEEP BEEPBEEP BEEPBEEP-

Both the argument and Soundwave's concentration were broken by the sound of an alarm which had never been used during the Decepticons' residency on Earth.

The change was almost instantaneous. Megatron moved forwards in his throne, optics alert and narrowed, the sound of his fusion cannon charging filling the room. Starscream's sneer vanished to be replaced by a look of taut concentration as he moved to stand next by his leader's right hand.

Soundwave's hands flew over the console. "Communication origin confirmed; Cybertron. Priority level; one."

The Decepticon emperor nodded once. "On screen."

The viewscreen flickered and reformed into the blocky visage of Shockwave, his single optic bright with urgency. Behind him, Dreadnought was leaning over the main console, a wide smile stretching his faceplates to breaking point as he scanned a text report. Other mechs and femmes were charging back and forth, shouting orders and hauling storage boxes.

Shockwave looked more animated now than he had done in several million years. "My liege, success!"

Megatron looked askance. "Success? What success? Shockwave, if this is one of your pet projects actually working for once, then I fail to see why it requires the Priority One channel!"

"No, my liege, this is _true_ success. The Autobots have fled Iacon. Not a trace of their troops remain; not Fortress Maximus, nor the Femme Contingent. The Cobalt Sentries and the Predacons have just confirmed it..."

The gun-former's next words would remain emblazoned in the senior officers' processors until the day they offlined.

"The Decepticons now hold _all_ of Cybertron!"

* * *

The announcement was made at 9pm Pacific Standard time.

"Let it be known to all of the Earth-based ground and aerial troops of the Decepticon army that on December 25th 2003, at 12:50 GMT, the Decepticon forces on Cybertron took full control of our homeworld. The Autobots have fled to Luna Alpha and Luna Beta, their defences broken and supply lines ruptured. Victory to the Decepticons!"

Approximately three minutes later, the Earth-based forces had devised an appropriate celebratory response to the announcement.

"Shhho here it issssh Merry Chrishmash, effrybooodish havin' fuuun! Look to the fuchure now itsh only jusht beguuuhuuuuhuun!"

* * *

Heels dragging loudly on the floor tiles, Nightraider trudged towards her bondmate's quarters, her desire for a refuel, recharge and a long retreat into Soundwave's spark overriding all other subroutines.

Within ten minutes of the victory announcement, energon poisoning cases on board had unsurprisingly tripled. The med-bay had been running double-shifts all day in order to cope with the party survivors, but the further celebrations pushed the normally easy-going Scrapper over the edge. Unless shutdown was actually imminent, all mechs on the _Nemesis_ were officially fending for themselves.

Not that she was complaining. Anything which meant she could have another hour with her mech was fine by her.

The red and black jet wearily tapped her access code into the override panel and gratefully stepped into the warm darkness. As her optics adjusted to the gloom, she could make out the recharging forms of the Cassettes, their frames and assorted heaps of wrapping paper covering the quarters like so many spare parts. Of Soundwave, there was still no sign – hardly surprising given the situation.

Rumble and Frenzy were both leaning back against the desk, snoring loudly, their new Xbox controllers still tightly clamped in their hands. Ravage was sprawled out on an oversized fur cushion, purring softly and batting the air with a paw. The twin condors were both perched on the edge of the berth, their newly polished frames supporting a dozing Ratbat, who was cuddling a new Mauser BK-27 autocannon to his spark.

Common sense dictated she should simply leave the twins where they slept and let their physiology programs alert them when their positions became too strenuous on their frames.

Her still-tender spark overruled this logic and directed her towards picking the red and blue Cassettes up by the scruff-bars, tucking them under her wing, settling back onto Soundwave's berth and rearranging them to lie safely in the crook of her left arm.

A gentle peck on the ankle joint caught her attention. _Nightraider?_

The F-14 glanced at the foot of the berth. Buzzsaw and Ratbat were both still asleep, but Laserbeak had woken up just enough to move closer to the older femme, optics alight with happiness. _Soundwave told us._

"Yep. Looks like you're stuck with me now."

The red condor let out a soft cheep. _Some might say it's the other way around._

"Hmph. What do they know?"

Nightraider raised her right arm in invitation. Laserbeak hesitated for barely a spark-beat before fluttering up the berth to perch on her co-creator's limb.

_It's gone, you know._

"What has?"

Laserbeak ruffled her wings. _His loneliness. It almost vanished after you both left the party last night, and it disappeared completely after you, well..._

"Bonded. You _are_ allowed to say it; I'll have to say it to General Strika in less than 24 hours."

_You're leaving so soon?_

"The circumstances on Cybertron have drastically changed. Besides, Megatron won't be able to rule by proxy, and he's not stupid enough to leave Shockwave in sole control of the planet he's aimed to destroy-slash-conquer for so long."

Buzzsaw, who had been woken at the sound of the femme jet's voice, gave up on feigning sleep. _You don't trust Shockwave?_

"I'd trust him far less than I could throw him."

Laserbeak chittered. _Which would be how far?_

The femme jet stared at the ceiling for a second. "About three meters with both hands."

_Not that far then. Is it to do with his sparkling?_

Trust Buzzsaw to be that touch too observant for his own good. "...Among other things."

Nightraider shook her head and focussed on the twin condors watching her with curious optics. "Anyway, it's past midnight and Soundwave should be back soon."

Choosing to ignore the sudden switch in topics, Laserbeak moved to perch on the edge of the berth, while Buzzsaw wrapped a wing around Ratbat's snoozing form, the little bat letting out a sleepy chitter before burrowing into his brother's side.

The red condor prepped her defrag cycle and shuttered her optics. _Will you stay awake until he returns?_

Nightraider gave her fellow femme a deadpan look. "I've just finished a double-shift and I haven't recharged properly for two days. Sleep first, snuggles later."

Laserbeak's amusement was clear through the link before she offlined for the night. _Correct answer. And Merry Christmas.  
_

* * *

There was a berth somewhere under the assorted pile of mechs and femmes, Soundwave was almost certain of it. Although...while there was the obvious and highly welcome addition of a snarky red and black F-14 jet to the pile, the fact remained that either he was going to have to wake at least half of the occupants up in order to find a sleeping space, or he would need to request a larger berth.

Trying not to trip over the piles of boxes or Ravage's new scratching post, the exhausted Communications officer managed to sit down on the edge of the berth and loomed over his bondmate.

Nightraider stirred at the change in pressure of the mattress, cracking open one optic to confirm the source of the change before opening the other optic, stretching her leg pistons, and shifting closer to her mech, shooting him another rare smile as she did.

"Hey."

She managed to sit up without jostling the twins and leaned closer to her mate, resting her helm against his and listening to the soft hum of his systems. Soundwave paused for a moment before pulling her into his arms and retracting his face-mask.

"So when do you start the clear-out?"

"In the New Year. The Autobots have fortified the Ark and their energon processing facilities in Autobot City, so it is more logical to keep a skeleton crew here and strengthen our defences on Cybertron. Our energon supplies are large enough to keep the entire army at full capacity for over 50 vorns."

"A stalemate, basically."

Nightraider shifted her fuselage enough for Soundwave to sit with his back against the wall of the berth, not even resisting when the Communications officer then tugged her forwards to sit on his lap.

"The Autobots will be dependent on the goodwill of the humans to maintain their supply lines. For them, the key to this war is no longer Cybertron, but Earth."

The femme jet rearranged her legs so that she was straddling her bondmate's hips. "And every day the stalemate continues, that goodwill saps just a little further."

Soundwave leaned further in, his fingers sliding down the femme's back and tracing seeming idle circles over her wings. "Humans are...flighty creatures. With lifespans as short as theirs, they know little of the value of patience."

"Unlike, say, the Decepticons?"

"More like the one who waited for me to make the decision I should have made too many vorns ago."

"Flatterer."

The conversation ceased as the navy mech pulled his femme to him for a kiss, overworked circuitry heating up once more. Pressing a hand to the small of her back, Soundwave stood, hoisting Nightraider's body along with him, and quietly made his way towards the door, activating the mechanism with his elbow.

Reluctantly breaking away from the kiss, Nightraider wrapped herself more tightly around Soundwave's frame and stared into his optic band. "Contrary to popular opinion, I'm not an exhibitionist."

"Nor am I. But I believe the weapons upgrade ward is deserted, and I had promised that every night I could have you, I would be making amends for lost time. And if you are returning to Cybertron tomorrow, I intend to make this night...memorable."

The femme's voice echoed back through their quarters as the door slid shut. "If this is how Christmas normally works, sign me up for next year."

* * *

Silence fell over the sleeping quarters as the various sleep cycles of the six Cassettes ended and their reduced power systems kicked in.

Rumble was the first to complain. "Ok, seriously, can someone jus' bleach my processor now? Please?"

Ravage stretched out and flexed his claws, but didn't budge from his new cushion. _I doubt any of us were meant to hear that._

"And yet we did. Popular opinion: ewwwww." Frenzy pulled a face to indicate his supposed disgust, but his spark wasn't in it.

Buzzsaw ruffled his wings and yawned. _Perhaps a suggestion of either using indoor voices or bonds would be more considerate._

Laserbeak simply looked amused. _Three cubes of high-grade to the one who tells them._

The blue Cassette snorted. "And there's a bet we ain't touchin'."

Ratbat simply cuddled his autocannon closer to his spark and giggled. Soundwave was happy, Nightraider was happy, they had spark-bonded, and soon they would all be going back to Cybertron.

Add in the amount of blackmail material he and Ravage had collected from the various digicams in the refectory, and it had been the perfect Christmas. But there was one thing he still didn't understand.

_No-one's said yet what a virgin is.  
_

The five elder Cassettes simply shared a Look.

* * *

TBC


	12. Part 12

A/N: Something of a rarity here – one; I've almost finished one of my multi-chapter fics, and two; I started this when I was 27, and will have finished it when I'm 28. Spooky-awesome? You decide.

* * *

Disclaimer: Nightraider, Dreadnought, Crossfire and all of their deep-seated psychological issues are mine. Everything else Transformers-wise is the property of Hasbro and TakaraTomy.

Slightly M-rated in the middle, but I reckon it's no worse than what you'd get on daytime TV. The ending isn't exactly a bundle of laughs, but then again, love never is.

_Italics_ denote telepathy/thoughts.

*...* denotes flashback.

* * *

**Presents: Part 12**

* * *

Power grid online...check.

Transport co-ordinates locked and loaded...check

Iron ore test specimen in place...check.

"Sending now..."

A beep on the console signalled the transport was complete, and a further text report confirmed the sample had survived the interstellar journey intact.

"Sweet."

Dreadnought rubbed his hands together and grinned in anticipation. All he had to do now was wait for the acknowledgement that the bridge plate was fully loaded from the spacebridge terminal on Earth and they could get their first wave of troops home, to say nothing of finally getting their Femme CMO back.

He glanced over his shoulder at the bulky form of Shockwave calmly monitoring the communications console, Crossfire strapped to his back and chirping contentedly at his toy cyber-cat. "Any word from Sounders or 'Screamer yet?"

The Military Operations officer gave him something that could pass for a Look in response. "Negative. And their names are Soundwave and Starscream. One feels it may be prudent to use their full designations rather than the vernacular."

Dreadnought rolled his optics. "Yeah, recap? One is not dumb enough to use their nicknames to their faceplates."

He paused and thought for a second "...Okay, maybe a lil' bit in 'Screamer's case since annoying him counts as my rest and recreation time."

Shockwave angled his head in acknowledgement of the fact. "Perhaps. But, and much as I hesitate to use the words 'respect' and 'Starscream' in the same sentence, he is the second in command and the Air Commander of the Decepticon forces, and he is still due a modicum of deference."

"Hey. One, he gets the same level of casual disrespect from me as he gets from anyone else in the forces, and two; even if he doesn't like it, he's got more sense than to start a bitch-fight with a 35,000 ton battlecruiser who's been known to sit on his opponents to win an argument."

Crossfire suddenly perked up at this new piece of information. "You sit on mechs to stop them being mean?"

The chief engineer leaned back far enough from his current position to reach over and scratch the little mech between his antennae. "Mostly when they deserved it, but sometimes just for funsies."

"Can you sit on Shockwave to stop him being mean?"

Dreadnought studiously avoided his colleague's optic. "Isn't that a bit extreme, short stuff?"

Crossfire blinked. "Nope."

"Hmmm. I'll see what I can do."

Shockwave looked decidedly unimpressed and turned his attention back to the communications console. "Not while I have my strength, you won't."

Dreadnought shook his head. "Y'know, for a mech who claims not to be able to process any emotions, you sure as Pit got the hang of casual sarcasm."

"I had an...adequate teacher."

The battlecruiser's retort was lost under the sound of the comm. system alert and a sudden burst of static, under which the unmistakable sounds of an argument in progress could be picked up.

Megatron's voice echoed harshly through the speakers. _"Spacebridge terminal Nevada to spacebridge terminal Darkmount. Shockwave, if you value your continued existence, acknowledge."_

Somewhat warily, the Military Operations officer activated the spacebridge communications array and cleared the static out of his vocaliser with a cough.

"Darkmount receiving. Is...there an issue, Lord Megatron?"

"_That would be a **drastic** understatement."_

The vidscreen fizzled with static before reforming into the unimpressed visage of the Decepticon leader. On Earth, Megatron exhaled hard enough to whip up a small sand flurry and briefly turned towards Soundwave, who was silently manipulating the access terminal to the spacebridge and trying desperately not to be noticed.

"Get the first wave organised or the last thing _any_ of them will see will be the opposite end of a black hole."

* * *

Not for the first time, Soundwave was infinitely grateful that his frame designer had installed a face-mask.

Turning away from the console, he regarded the assembled first wave of troops and supplies, and felt his spark sink slightly. Skywarp was using a family of passing coyotes as target practice, with a visibly swaying Drag Strip at his side trying to outshoot him and failing spectacularly. Breakdown, Wildrider and Dead End were slumped together in a hangover-riddled heap next to the spacebridge gates and making the occasional whine about feeling so close to death they could see the faceplates of Primus. Astrotrain was reclining comfortably against a cliff-face with Nightraider draped over his shoulder as they both took a brief stasis nap.

Motormaster, reeling from a combination of the four hangovers of his gestalt-mates and the two nights of celebrations, was taking a swipe with his sword at any mech foolish enough to enter the 20 foot exclusion zone around his frame. Starscream naturally had entered said exclusion zone, had narrowly missed earning a desk-job for life, had taken immediate offence at the 'blatant' disrespect shown to him and was busy shrieking at the top of his vocaliser about lack of discipline and the Stunticons' rightful place in the dirt and how if _he_ was the Decepticon leader all of them would have been reformatted into Segways...and Thundercracker, possibly the only mech out of the entire group who was anywhere near sane and sober, was sitting peacefully next to the piles of energon cubes and assorted weaponry, reading a bookpad.

Trying to delay the moment when he had to assert his authority, Soundwave loomed over the blue and black F-15 and attempted to read the title of his ebook.

Thundercracker had stopped reading after the Communication officer's shadow had crossed his screen. He glanced up at Soundwave's impassive face-mask and shrugged. "Star Wars: A New Hope novelisation. It's not actually that bad."

Soundwave's expression didn't change. "Novelisation: inferior to film."

"And yet, still a million times better than The Phantom Menace in any shape or form."

He deactivated the bookpad and subspaced it as he stood up and cast his optics over his fellow soldiers.

"You have to get them rounded up?"

"Affirmative."

"Looking forward to it?"

"Negative."

"Reckon you'll get a few dents in your plating _not_ caused by 'Raider?"

Soundwave settled with narrowing his optic band and glaring at the now-smirking jet.

Thundercracker held up his hands in mock-defence. "Hey, I'm just saying what we're all thinking."

"Comments: unnecessary."

He pressed the eject button on the side of his chest compartment and straightened up. "Frenzy: eject."

The tape deck mechanism whirred and clanked, but Frenzy's frame didn't emerge.

"Frenzy: _eject_."

A grumpy voice laced with exhaustion piped up from the depths of the deck. "Don' wanna."

Soundwave narrowly resisted the urge to strangle something. Frenzy had been in a foul mood since that morning, the cause of which was still unknown, and which he wasn't particularly interested in at that moment. The navy mech managed to direct a glare into the top of his chest compartment where the barest edge of the red-and black Cassette's frame could be seen.

"Action: order, not request. Eject: _now_."

"Make me!"

A sudden clang inside the depths of the deck made the Communications officer stumble ever so slightly. Guessing what was about to happen, he leaned against the edge of the nearest weapons storage crate and braced himself. He felt the unmistakable sensation of a Cassette partially transforming within his compartment, and could make a comfortable prediction as to who it was.

Frenzy's tone changed from whiny petulance to irritation within a sparkbeat. "Whoa-whoa-whoa whoa, where'd' ya think you're puttin' _those_ claws kittykat—OWOWOWOWOWOWOWWWWW!"

The red and black Cassette finally emerged, followed swiftly by his feline brother. Transforming as he landed, Frenzy frantically ran his hands over his frame, inspecting the metal for any obvious injuries. Finding nothing but small mesh wounds, he span round and directed a death-glare at Ravage, who had finished his transformation and was sitting quietly next to his creator's foot, idly running his glossa over his claws.

"Fair warning bro, my vengeance will be swift and unannounced!"

Ravage merely raised an eye-ridge. _You are aware, of course, that the fact that you've announced the obtaining of said vengeance completely eradicates any element of surprise I might have felt at the encounter?_

Frenzy's optics darted back and forth as he attempted to follow his sibling's train of thought and got stuck in the buffet car. He folded his arms across his chest and turned his head away, nasal unit in the air. "Whatever, boss's _pet_."

Soundwave offered a silent plea to Primus to give him strength, turned his attention to his younger creation and nodded in the general direction of the designated first wave.

"Operation: Awakening. Function required: sonic scream."

Frenzy went rigid, glanced up at his creator and blinked.

"...Seriously?"

"Affirmative."

A slag-eating grin made its way across the red and black Cassette's face-plates.

Thundercracker groaned and stared at Soundwave.

"You really are just a sadist, aren't you?"

"Hints: numerous."

* * *

Nightraider's wings flexed briefly as she awakened, rolled over and sprawled out on her back, the December sunlight still strong enough to heat up the black coated areas of her frame. Under her wings, Astrotrain's larger frame hummed peacefully, the triple-changer content to simply sit back and catch a few breems of rest before the spacebridge was ready to send them home.

She couldn't deny she'd missed Cybertron. Much as her stay on Earth had been a welcome change to her routine, she wanted to get back and help the others to consolidate their victory. As a military model and a Seeker, it went against her programming to relax completely, and frankly, she was a lot happier when she had something to do.

Or now...perhaps it was now having some**one** to do on a hopefully routine basis that made her just that little bit more enthusiastic about returning to her normal duties.

A small but filthy smirk crept across her face as she recalled what exactly Soundwave had considered a memorable final night...

* * *

*The repair berth in the weapons upgrade ward was designed to hold the weight and frame size of a triple-changer, but even two relatively compact frames combined were still physically a tight fit side on the mattress.

At that particular moment, Nightraider didn't give a flying frag.

Condensation dripped down hers and Soundwave's frames as their plating cooled off. The Communications officer still had his bondmate's arms pinned above her head, her legs wrapped around his hips, and his interfacing leads buried in the sockets at the back of her port as he rested his helm against hers.

The red and black jet was the first to speak, an exhausted giggle emerging from her vocaliser. "Mmmmmh...I can't feel my legs."

Off of Soundwave's look, she grinned and raised her head up just enough to kiss him. "Trust me, that's a good thing."

The tape-deck 'Con purred. "As long as the lack of feeling is caused only by pleasure and not pain."

"I dunno, depends what you're into."

She caught his renewed look and rolled her optics. "Would you relax? If I wasn't into it, you'd know."

Soundwave removed his hands from her wrists, running them down her frame with deliberate languor until they settled on her hips. "Would this be by implication or by vocally stating your displeasure?"

Nightraider wriggled her frame up the berth until she could prop herself up on her servos. "My memory may be a little hazy right now, but I seem to recall overloading three times within the past hour and screaming your name each time. I'd like to think it was obvious that you were doing something right."

The look on the Communication officer's faceplates could have been used as an illustration of the dictionary definition of the word 'smug'.

The corners of his mouth turned down slightly as he called up his internal chronometer. "As long as it will be enough to satiate your desires for the next two months."

The femme jet looked down and exhaled briefly. "I waited nine million years for you. I...guess two more months won't make a _huge_ difference."

She turned her head and fixed her gaze on the window on the far side of the bay, determined not to let her mate see any sign of her unwillingness to be apart from him. Not being onlined as a psychic however, she had underestimated both the strength of the bond, and the clarity of her thoughts.

Soundwave brought his knuckles up under his femme's chin, forcing her to look him in the optics. "We have not discussed the more practical implications of this union."

Nightraider shrugged. "I'm a medic. I'm aware of some of the physiological aspects – the initiation of spark-to-spark communication, enhanced telepathic sensitivity, shared emotional states, and the risk of simultaneous offlining if one or the other is fatally wounded."

"I was referring to the effects of sustained absence on both partners. The physical and psychological symptoms of bond strain are...unpleasant."

Soundwave gathered the femme more securely into his arms. "While I do not wish to sound mawkish, we are now two halves of a whole. Our sparks will recognise the missing halves and call to each other until they are whole again. That call will be draining on both of us until we are reunited."

The femme jet didn't trust her vocaliser not to break. Instead she delved into the bond and closed her optics as she buried her face in Soundwave's neck pistons. _Define draining._

If Soundwave noticed the sudden switch in communication method, he chose not to question it. _A full set of rations will not fulfil either of our fuel requirements. We will exhaust ourselves more easily. Our tempers will be strained, our concentration less focussed...and our desires more easily aroused._

_So, drowsy, grouchy, hungry and horny. Sounds like either a typical fledgling or four of the rejected names for the Seven Dwarves._

The Communications officer hung his head briefly before pulling away and glaring at his mate.

Nightraider, now more sure of her vocaliser, and not being one to turn down an opportunity to tease her bonded, returned to her normal speech pattern. "Hey. I have Wi-Fi and I was bored."

"I was _hoping_ you would be taking this more seriously."

"I _am_. You can _feel_ my spark, right?"

"Yes."

"Then you know that...ugh."

She pushed at Soundwave's chest until he sat up, pulling her body with him. Rearranging herself in his lap, she stared down at him and traced the back of his helm with her fingertips.

"Being apart from you when we thought the Nemesis was lost was painful, and I...I didn't deal with it well."

Soundwave merely raised an eye-ridge.

"Ok, drastic understatement, but still. Being apart from you and the Cassettes then was painful, and I know that being apart now we've bonded is going to be the Pit. But most of that earlier pain was due to not knowing if you were still alive. With a bond, it's going to hurt either way, but at least I know you're alive."

"It is not a situation I would wish you to be in."

Nightraider smirked. "Any situation right now which _doesn't_ involve me pinning you down on this berth and interfacing until we can't walk straight isn't a situation I'm likely to enjoy. But...we still have 12 more hours. And I'm pretty sure I want to be enjoying the time we have left rather than regretting the time we've lost."

The Communications officer returned the smirk in kind. He shifted his body so that he could recline against the berth with the femme jet astride his hips, and studied her frame with darkened optics.

"Two months is our longest estimate for troop transfer. If the Autobots do not interfere, I could return to Cybertron within six weeks."

Nightraider settled her frame atop his and pulled his head to one side, providing just enough room to bend her head and graze her dental plates along his pistons.

"Only 'could'?"

Soundwave hissed and grabbed the F-14's aft, distracting her long enough for him to claim her mouth with his.

_Alright, I **will** return within six weeks. All I ask of you right now, femme, is that you recall my name – I intend to have you screaming it at the ceiling in the next few minutes.*_

* * *

A gentle nudge through the bond brought her out of her increasingly lurid thoughts.

_Much as that was entertaining, I would suggest you return yourself to ground level and deactivate your audials._

Cracking open one optic, Nightraider squinted down firstly at the desert floor, and then at the form of her bondmate shimmering slightly in the heat haze, Ravage and Frenzy standing at his feet.

_But I'm comfy here._

Soundwave's expression didn't change one iota.

_Ah. This is one of those situations where I don't really get a choice so much as a courtesy warning, right?_

The Communication officer nodded wearily, while Frenzy's head was nodding so fast it was just a grinning blur.

Out of the corner of his optic, Megatron observed the femme jet as she sat up and stretched, then vaulted from Astrotrain's shoulder to the desert floor. Making her way towards the assembled upright mechs, she squinted one optic shut and tapped at the secondary control system under the edge of her helm, where the override for the audial system was located.

Another, longer glance at Thundercracker and the two Cassettes present revealed them to be making similar movements. That, combined with Frenzy's almost obscenely gleeful expression, was more than enough to have Megatron seeking out the tiny panel under his own helm.

The Communications officer turned back towards his commander, seeking approval for the forthcoming action. Receiving both a glare and a sharp nod, he activated his loudspeakers and stepped forward.

"Suggestion: any mech wishing to retain full audial function in the next minute should prepare to deactivate their audials and prepare for spacebridge transport."

This suggestion received the usual amount of rapt attention any of the Decepticon forces granted Soundwave while hungover – absolutely frag-all.

He looked back at the two Seekers, who offered him identical shrugs. Finally deactivating his own audials, the navy mech gestured to Frenzy to step forward.

The red Cassette rubbed his hands together, took a completely unnecessary breath of air and opened his mouth.

* * *

On Cybertron, Shockwave had caught the announcement and the tiny gesture made by his emperor, put two and two together and quickly deactivated the audio link with the Nevada terminal.

Dreadnought winced as he spotted the sonic waves peeling across the screen, strong enough to kick up dust flurries that obscured Megatron's faceplates, but not strong enough to obscure the sadistically amused glint in his optics.

"Why air going all wibbley?"

The battlecruiser glanced down at Crossfire, who had managed to climb partially out of his sling and was peeking over his creator's shoulder at the terminal screen.

"That's a sonic wave, lil' buddy."

Carefully disentangling the little mech from the sling and earning another Look from Shockwave as he did, Dreadnought settled Crossfire into the crook of his arm and pointed at the screen.

"See, when an object passes through the air it creates a series of pressure waves in front of it and behind it, like the bow waves and aft waves you see in front of me and behind when we go out sailing on the Mithril Sea. Understand?"

The silver and lavender sparkling giggled. "You said aft."

Shockwave almost rolled his optic, but managed to refrain. "Is this really necessary?"

"Hey, you put me in charge of his education. I'm educating, back off." The battle cruiser returned his attention to his tiny charge.

"So, these pressure waves travel at the speed of sound, and as the speed of the object increases, the waves are forced together, or compressed, because they can't get out of the way of each other. Eventually they merge into a single shock wave travelling at the speed of sound..." He stopped at the confused expression in the little gun-former's optic and sighed.

"Soundwave and Frenzy can create sonic booms. Sonic booms can be felt as well as heard, so you're seeing sound _move_."

"Ooooh." Crossfire stared at the screen.

"Is Frenzy the red one or the blue one?"

Silence fell over the lab for a brief, blissful moment. Shockwave finally intervened.

"Leave it."

Dreadnought shook his head and tapped his comm. link. "Dreadnought to Glit. We got any spare audial parts in the stores?"

The receiver hissed for a few moments before Glit's baffled tones purred through Dreadnought's speakers. "_...Yes, and I hesitate to ask, but why?_"

Dreadnought sucked on his dental plates and flashed an apologetic grin that the feline medic couldn't see. "Um, Frenzy did the other thing he does best?"

"_Oh sweet Primus._" The sound of a paw being slapped over a set of optics could be heard clearly through the comm. system.

"_Fine, but if anyone complains of any injuries to anything other than their audial systems, they're on their own._"

* * *

On Earth, Soundwave glanced at his chronometer and calculated that 30 seconds of sonic based aural torture was more than enough to get the troops' attention.

Or at least enough to make two of the Stunticons keel over in agony and the rest of the assembled mechs collapse on their knees with their hands slammed over their audials and mouthing a few rather choice obscenities.

_Frenzy._

Tapping Frenzy on the head, the Communications officer made a throat-slitting motion.

_Gotcha boss._

The red and black Cassette clamped his mouth shut and shook his head a few times to clear the last of the vibrations out of his system before he activated his audials. "Hmmm, tingly."

Beside him, Ravage activated his own audials and carefully licked at a patch of sand marring his paintjob. _Dusty is perhaps the phrase I would have used, but no matter._

Astrotrain was the first to stand up and stagger towards the spacebridge gates, all the while jabbing a finger into his helm in a vain attempt to regain his hearing. "Was that really necessary?"

Frenzy beamed up at the triple-changer. "Nope. Fun though!"

"Urrgh..." The space shuttle mech shot the Cassette a filthy look before he entered the gates. The Stunticons had taken the hint and were staggering towards the terminal, accompanied by a whining Skywarp and a spitting Starscream.

Thundercracker and Nightraider glanced at each other, shrugged again and onlined their audials. The blue and black F-15 made a move to comfort his mate while trying desperately not to show his amusement, while the Air Commander glanced between his now-smirking emperor and the sniggering Femme CMO as if deciding on whom to vent his ire.

The F-14 lost the metaphorical coin-toss.

Starscream squared up to the smaller jet, wings twitching in self-righteous rage. "Laugh away _femme_, you _won't_ be so _amused_ when I _return_ the _favour_!"

"If listening to you whine for several million years hasn't already ruined my auditory systems, I seriously doubt you'll manage it now."

The silver and red jet sneered. "_Don't_ think your _insolence_ will be _tolerated_ for much _longer_. _I_ am still _your_ commanding _officer_; I could have _you_ thrown out in a _spark-beat_."

Nightraider let out an amused-sounding chuckle as she made her way towards the terminal, idly stretching an arm behind her back. "As a _Seeker_, yes, you're my commanding officer. As a _CMO_, I answer only to Strika and Megatron, both of whom, if memory serves, outrank _you_."

She shot a look at the Decepticon emperor, who acknowledged it with a sharp nod.

"Want to try again?"

Starscream made a few strangling motions behind the femme's back and growled. "My _patience_ with you is _shrinking_ _rapidly_!"

The F-14 smirked. Oh, too easy. "And it's not the _only_ thing."

With a screech, Starscream flung himself at the smaller jet, fingers curled into claws and a look of death in his optics that Unicron would have been proud of.

Nightraider frantically calculated the odds and her position relative to that of Soundwave and Megatron, and ducked. The Air Commander soared over the top of her helm, made a swipe at her wings as he passed and collapsed in a raging heap next to his commander's feet. Megatron stared down for a few seconds and shook his head briefly before hauling the F-15 up by his neck collar.

"Are you quite finished?"

Realising that there wasn't a dignified way out of this situation, Starscream folded his arms across his cockpit and glared.

"Slagging _bitch_."

Nightraider returned the glare in kind. "Mech-whore."

The two glares both simultaneously transformed into matching smirks.

Nightraider flipped her commanding officer a brief salute. "See you in six weeks."

Starscream chuckled lowly. "Send _Obsidian_ my _regards_."

With that, he retreated to supervise the loading of the bridge-plate, Thundercracker and Skywarp following close behind.

* * *

With a rush of air and electricity, the first shipment of energon cubes arrived on Cybertron, lighting up the control room with an otherworldly pink-purple glow. A number of Shockwave's drones immediately swooped in to collect and transport the cubes through to one of the many storage bays dotted throughout the Darkmount complex.

Studying his screen, Dreadnought fed a few calculations through the computer and nodded thoughtfully.

"Looks like we've got another two supply transports to make before we can get the troops sent through."

The Military Operations officer briefly tilted his head in agreement. "Do we have the designations of the troops?"

"Eh...all five Stunties, Astrotrain and 'Raider. The Stunties are hungover but should live, but Glit should probably be in here to get Astrotrain and 'Raider sorted. Flight models don't bridge well."

Shockwave glowered. "Do not remind me."

Dreadnought grinned. The last time any of the Seekers had been bridged back to Cybertron, Dirge had passed out, Ramjet's gyroscope hadn't worked correctly for almost three orns, and Thrust had barely taken three shaky steps out of the bridge terminal before his last energon ration had ended up decorating Shockwave's feet.

"Lip components are sealed. Oh, and let 'em know they've got one breem to make their goodbyes."

* * *

Ravage purred and let his optics drift shut as Nightraider gently scratched between his ears and then under his chin.

"You do know the Autobots have you on file as the most feared and deadly Cassette under Megatron's command?"

_And?_

"Purring like a five tonne cyber-kitten probably isn't good for your rep."

The feline Cassette cracked open one optic. _Everyone's allowed some downtime. And I trust you will not..._

"Yeah yeah, I won't mention the fluffy kitty bit to Howlback."

_As it should be._

Ravage reluctantly broke away from his co-creator's touch and glanced at Frenzy.

The red Cassette didn't budge. He simply stared at the sand beneath his feet, hands behind his back, faceplates curled into a frown.

"'Zee? I know we did the whole goodbye bit earlier, but..." The femme jet held out her hand towards the younger Cassette.

"...Mumblerumpherfrzllemumble..."

"Sorry 'Zee, I don't speak gibberish, but I could patch it through gobbledegook?"

Without pausing or looking up at Nightraider's face, Frenzy moved forward and latched himself onto the femme jet's leg, clutching hard enough to make the plating creak. Guessing immediately what the problem was, and opting to spare the Cassette's pride, Nightraider shielded Frenzy from view with her wings and quietly patted him on the back.

"I know. I'll miss you too, you little freak."

At that, Frenzy finally raised his head and shot a wobbly smirk at the F-14. "'S'not gonna be long, right?"

Nightraider returned the smirk. "Six weeks. Not even two orbital cycles. You'll live."

"Meh."

Ravage, sensing what was coming next, quietly moved towards Frenzy and tugged on one of his hip components. _I believe our presence would be of better use elsewhere._

"Mmmmmblefrzen..."

Finally letting go of Nightraider's leg, Frenzy let himself be dragged off by his older sibling, but not before shooting what could almost pass for a mournful look up at his co-creator.

* * *

Inside Soundwave's tape-deck, Ratbat nudged himself forward to the front of the compartment and pressed himself against the plastic partition, his optics wide and filling steadily with tears.

_I don't want Nightraider to go._

Buzzsaw and Laserbeak snuggled next to the youngest Cassette, letting the warmth of their sparks seep into the little bat's frame. Laserbeak watched the femme jet as she stared after Frenzy and Ravage, trying to disguise her expression.

_I don't believe she wants to go back either. But she must. And it's only for a little while._

_Still don't want her to go._ Even in Cassette-form, Ratbat's pout was clearly audible.

From the back of the deck, Rumble's telepathic voice finally entered the conversation. _She'll be fine Squeaky. Plus she's got Shockwave's creation t' look after 'til we get back._

Ratbat went rigid. _...Crossfire? She's looking after Crossfire?_

He launched himself at the partition, squeaking and flailing in a jealous rage at the thought of his co-creator fussing and looking after the little lavender and silver gun-former, who was widely considered to be as cute as a week-old cyber-kitten soaked in low-grade by the Femme Division.

Buzzsaw shot a psychic glare at his older brother as Laserbeak tried to restrain the little bat. _Thank you Rumble, you just __**had**__ to mention him, didn't you?_

The blue Cassette smirked. _D'ya want Fighty Squeaky or Sad Squeaky? 'Cos Fighty Squeaky's got muchos more entertainment value._

_I believe Soundwave was hoping for a little more decorum from us when he bids Nightraider farewell._

_Eh. She knew what she was gettin' into when she did th' nasty wit'm._

* * *

Soundwave's shoulders slumped ever-so-slightly from the combined thoughts of his creations and the spectacular temper tantrum his youngest creation was busy throwing.

So much for a dignified farewell.

Nightraider bit back a grin as she picked up on the Cassettes' thoughts via the bond. "As the short blue one puts it, I knew what I was getting into at the start."

"Wish: for our parting to retain some formality."

"I know."

With the rest of the troops either loading or being loaded onto the bridge-plate, Megatron silently turned and moved a few steps away from the pair, just enough to give them the illusion of privacy.

Both Soundwave and Nightraider caught the gesture, even if they chose not to acknowledge it. The femme jet moved one step closer to her mate and placed a hand over his chest partition, the movement instantly quelling Ratbat's temper tantrum and causing the other Cassettes to fall silent. Behind the two elder Transformers, Ravage and Frenzy watched the proceedings with respectful optics.

Soundwave's hand closed over his femme's smaller digits. _Where your spark goes, there with you I go._

_Where your spark lives, there too I live. _Nightraider just managed to prevent her intakes hitching, but it was close.

Back in the Golden Age, the bonding vows were traditionally made before an audience of the two Cybertronians' family units, and blessed by the ruler of the city-state. After that, the bonding rituals took place and the pair would get onto the far more entertaining business of spark creation.

In this case...well. Creations followed by bonding, followed by a blessing (of a mostly unimpressed sort), followed by vows definitely weren't the normal order of courtship, but neither the Communications officer nor the femme jet had ever considered themselves to be traditional.

Nightraider was the first to break away and turn. Deliberately not meeting her mate's optic band, she moved to stand in front of Megatron and drew her fist up to her chestplates in a crisp salute.

"Permission to return to Cybertron, sir."

The Decepticon emperor nodded. "Permission granted."

* * *

Soundwave would later recall a number of images and words after the pain had subsided to bearable levels.

The image of Nightraider marching onto the bridge-plate and taking her place between Astrotrain and Motormaster, shooting the truck in the knee when he made a half-sparked attempt to grope her wings.

The sounds of Starscream and Megatron as they prepared the plate and its contents for transport.

The sight of Skywarp and Thundercracker bidding farewell to the femme jet, Skywarp waving frantically and pretending to cry, his blue and black bondmate smacking him lightly upside the head and offering a far less animated, but no less sincere wave.

The sudden whisper of his femme's voice through their bond.

_I love you._

_I know._

And the flash of light from the spacebridge as the combined mass of the supplies and the returning troops shot into the heavens in the space of a sparkbeat.

But before that...

* * *

The silver gun-former turned just in time to see his third in command go suddenly rigid. Making an informed guess as to the cause of this new state, he glared at Starscream and made a small gesture, enough to indicate that the silver and red F-15 should return to base with his trine-mates.

Starscream stood his ground for a moment, hands on hip-plating and a pout on his lips. "_And_ if I _don't_?"

Megatron simply raised his arm cannon and shoved it in his Air Commander's face.

"Ugh, _fine_."

With an irritated nod, Starscream stepped back a few feet and nodded to Skywarp and Thundercracker. "_Well_, it's not as if _we_ need to listen to a _groundpounder_ conversation _anyway_."

Megatron toyed with the notion of just shooting the F-15 in the back for the hell of it, but decided Primus probably wouldn't thank him for sending Starscream to him before his time. Instead he watched as the Elite trine took off, and only after the three jets became three minute dots in the Nevadan skies did he turn to study the Communications officer.

Soundwave slumped first to his knees and then hunched over his body, his shaking left arm supporting his upper body while the fingers on his right hand formed into claws as he ineffectually dug them into his chest plating. Beside him, Ravage had pulled his body into a defensive posture and was snarling in agony; Frenzy had gone fully foetal, his arms and legs drawn around his frame while streams of optical lubricant coursed down his cheekplates.

Inside his chest compartment, Laserbeak and Buzzsaw were curled together, shuddering in physical and emotional torment. Rumble, barely able to move from the fire coursing through his spark, had managed to position himself next to Ratbat shortly before the spacebridge had activated, and was desperately trying to soothe his youngest brother's shrieks of pain and misery before he offlined himself through his own distress.

He pressed his eject button and winced at the new lash of agony. "Ravage...Frenzy...return."

The two Cassettes gritted their dental plates, jumped in to the air and transformed, sliding to rest in their creator's chest compartment. With his creations as safe as they could be, Soundwave hunched over again and bowed his head, trying to keep his optics fixed on the sand underneath him lest his gyroscope give out and he simply purge his last fuel ration over the desert floor.

In his peripheral vision, he could see Megatron's black plated feet silently resting before him.

"Do you understand now why I cannot and will not fully condone your actions, Soundwave?"

The Communications officer remained silent as another inferno radiated from his spark.

He deliberately tried not to think of the pain Nightraider was almost certainly in.

"Because that care and concern for your mate makes you weak. Because your loyalty is now divided. Because you are now..."

The whine of the fusion cannon charging was unmistakable.

The Decepticon warlord aimed the barrel at Soundwave's bowed cranium.

"...a liability."

With an immense amount of concentration, Soundwave managed to block the worst of the physiological pain and met his commander's gaze with bleary optics. What Megatron had said was true. He was a liability.

But he was a liability who still had his uses.  
A liability who was telepathic.  
A liability who was competent.  
A liability who knew that somehow, he could be loyal to both his CPU and to his spark, and to the two beings who ruled each of them separately.

He inhaled deeply, only too aware of what could happen next, and stretched a shaking hand up towards Megatron.

"Request...plea: do not leave me...sir."

* * *

The silver gun-former studied the hunched chassis before him in tense silence.

Begging.

Soundwave, the mech who epitomised self-control and quiet strength, reduced to begging for his life like an Autobot or a Neutral.

In any other case, he would have shot the mech or femme with barely a pause for reflection.

But Soundwave...

The mech who had supported him unwaveringly from his origins in the gladiatorial slaughterhouses of Kaon.  
The mech who had located Starscream and his trinemates.  
The mech who had enticed Shockwave into joining the cause.  
The mech who had brought Nightraider to him that night and saved his life.

The mech who exemplified all that the Decepticons stood for.

* * *

One black hand reached down and firmly grasped the trembling navy digits. Soundwave shuttered his optics a few times and tried to focus.

Megatron hauled him to stand upright, his optics now an unreadable crimson.

"An optic for an optic. A life for a life."

The Communications officer read the gun-former's meaning perfectly.

"Implication: understood."

Megatron nodded.

"Can you fly?"

"Uncertain; attempt will still be made."

Any other comments Megatron had to make were interrupted by the beep of the communications terminal on the spacebridge gate.

Trusting his third-in-command wasn't about to offline any time soon, the Decepticon emperor strode towards the terminal and activated the transmitter. "Spacebridge terminal Nevada receiving."

Shockwave's blocky cranium appeared onscreen, his optic reflecting rare concern. "The troops and supplies have arrived, Lord Megatron. However..."

Megatron cut him off. "However, our Femme CMO has either just collapsed, or is screaming her vocalisor out for a sedative."

The Military Operations officer looked slightly confused. "The latter and then the former. If I may ask, how did you...?"

Megatron simply angled the screen until Soundwave's pain-riddled frame could be seen by the purple gun-former. Even to Shockwave, who prided himself on not knowing an emotional state if it bit him on the aft, the cause of the pain was obvious, and explained their CMO's current status perfectly.

No doubt Dreadnought, once he stopped running around panicking like a new-built femme, would be thrilled as to this new state of affairs.

"Understood. We will take the appropriate measures and keep you informed. Spacebridge terminal Darkmount out."

The terminal darkened as Megatron turned around, his optics fixed once again on the Communications officer.

"You will fly back to the _Nemesis_ under your own power, or you will not return at all. Is that understood?"

Straightening up, Soundwave managed to psychically block out the remains of the pain and activated his leg boosters without a word.

"As you command, Megatron."

Pebbles and sand clattered against the metal plating of the spacebridge terminal as the two Decepticons took off, all signs of their presence erased by the shifting desert sands.

* * *

TBC


	13. Part 13

A/N: Happy Doctor Who special day to all, and have a final chapter/completed fic on me!

* * *

Disclaimer: What I own is fairly pitiful – Nightraider, Dreadnought and Crossfire. Don't steal. What Hasbro and TakaraTomy own is far more substantial – Transformers and all it spin-offs. Jammy gits. But credit them if you borrow!

Warnings: Some implied smut (people seem to like it for some reason), but PG-13 at the worst, and a little setting up for a particular event taking place sometime in mid-2005...

* * *

**Presents: Part 13**

* * *

"...Aaaaoooooooowwww..."

From his seat next to the repair berth, Dreadnought's head whipped up and to the right at the exhausted sound emerging from Nightraider's vocalisor.

"'Raider? 'Raider, you alive?"

The femme jet's optics slowly cracked open with a groan. At the first glimmer of artificial light, they snapped shut again and she curled her fuselage into the foetal position with another, louder groan and a mutter of something that sounded like, "Slag off and let me die".

Dreadnought slapped the comm. unit next to the berth. "Ok, she's online. Sort of."

Shockwave's less-than-dulcet tones drifted through the speaker. "_Define 'sort of'._"

"Woke up, cursed me, and then went back into recharge."

"_Explain to me how this is different than usual._"

The battlecruiser rolled his optics. "This is not the time to finally learn how to be a smart-aft. Just get down here!"

On the opposite side of the med-bay, Glit spared the engineer a sympathetic glance while he waited for Astrotrain's scan results. The triple-changer lay peacefully on the berth, his gaze darting between the prone femme and the silver feline perched atop his cockpit.

"I don't get it. She was fine when we left."

Glit cast his optic over the scanner, nodded at the results, and subspaced the machine before he returned his gaze to the shuttle. "Well, you're cleared to leave. But there's nothing you can think of that might have caused this?"

He gestured at the F-14's prone frame with a paw.

Astrotrain shrugged as he swung his legs off the berth and stood up. "She's had the same rations as us, bridged the same time as me, and didn't get wasted at Christmas. Unless Soundwave had a dose of something he should've told the 'Structies about, I got nothing."

Both Glit and Dreadnought looked askance at the prone triple-changer. The battlecruiser was the first to open his mouth. "Why on Cybertron would something _Soundwave_ might have affect—OH!"

Dreadnought's optic band brightened from dull orange to almost white, and a delighted grin spread across his faceplates. Glit's optics widened in astonishment.

That eliminated the pool of reasons down to just a few dregs, all of which came from the results of happy-fun time, as the femme jet herself had once put it.

The feline medic blinked. "You're...certain?"

Striding towards the repair bay doors, the triple-changer treated both mechs to a look of derision. "She plugged him during the party. And a few times afterwards. And at least once this morning. You seriously don't know this?"

Shockwave picked that moment to enter the med-bay, Crossfire tucked under one arm with a pouty expression in his optic. "We 'seriously don't know' what?"

Dreadnought brought his hands together under his chin and made a noise that could only be described as a squee. "'Raider and Soundwave made the beastformer with two backs!"

He glanced quickly at Glit. "No offence."

Astrotrain rolled his optics and decided to make a fast exit.

On the berth, the F-14's fuselage twitched. "Shuddup all of you and let me die."

"And she speaks."

Dreadnought quickly moved down the berth to make room for Shockwave. Glit stood up, stretched, and lightly bounded down from Astrotrain's empty berth and trotted across to the femme jet's berth.

* * *

Forget her spark, it felt like her exo-plating was curling up and burning.

Nightraider forced herself to cycle air through her vents before she risked trying to turn her head towards the sound of Dreadnought's voice. Her optics flickered open again and managed to stay open, but the engineer and the medic both spotted immediately that her optic colour was a weak yellow rather than the usual amber.

Dreadnought tentatively slipped his hands under her shoulders and carefully lifted her frame up the berth, muttering soft apologies at every wince or hiss of pain. Glit retrieved his scanner and proceeded to run a full frame and spark analysis. Shockwave loomed over the end of the berth, Crossfire wriggling frantically in his grasp.

"What wrong with 'Raider?"

The Military Operations officer tucked his creation more securely under his arm. "She is unwell, and she will require silence."

Crossfire pushed at his sire's arm, a glower clear in his single optic. "If 'Raider not well, she need _hug_."

Without missing a beat, the femme jet cycled a tank of air, sat up, yanked Crossfire out of Shockwave's grasp and collapsed back on the berth with the little gun-former curled safely within her arms.

Crossfire snuggled into the femme's embrace with a squeak of delight and tentatively patted her faceplates. "'Raider want hug?"

Nightraider summoned up the energy for a lopsided grin. "'Raider definitely want hug. And some sedatives."

"Can do!" Dreadnought reached behind him and produced a blue-tinted energon cube.

Glit sniffed at the contents and screwed his faceplates into a feline scowl. "Should I even ask what's in there?"

The battlecruiser beamed and passed the cube to the femme jet. "I call it Top-Shelf Oblivion. Mid-grade laced with a dash of every sedative from the top shelf in the medical stores. Not enough to knock you out, but enough to keep you mellow."

Peeling one arm away from Crossfire's frame, Nightraider accepted the cube, took a wary glug and sighed in relief as the agony in her frame started to subside to more tolerable levels. "I love you. I know I don't say it enough, but I do."

"Yeah yeah yeah, I'm a one-mech wonder. Anyway..."

He rubbed his hands together and smirked expectantly at the prone femme. "Details, and don't say it's crotch-plate rot, because it just _isn't_."

Three sets of optics bored into him in disapproval. Glit was the first to speak, his dental plates gritted together.

"Please note there is a _sparkling_ in the room."

Dreadnought glanced at Crossfire, who was happily poking at Nightraider's energon cube and completely oblivious to the conversation.

"Oh yeah, because he'll _never_ hear those words put together in his life."

He turned his gaze back to Nightraider. "So you and lover-mech did the nasty, we got that. But you look like Fortress Maximus stepped on you, and your pain receptor readings are off the charts around your spark chamber. I will ask you now, did you and Soundwave...?"

He made a gesture around his own spark chamber that left the occupants of the room in no doubt as to what he was suggesting.

The F-14 simply glowered silently back.

"And please note that saying 'no comment' counts as yes."

Nightraider looked away, slugged the remains of her cube back in one gulp, shuddered, tucked Crossfire against her cockpit and swung her legs over the side of the berth. The first touch of her feet against the floor made her hiss in pain, but she managed to ignore the sensation long enough to stand and start a wobbly walk towards the repair bay doors.

The three mechs stared after her, Dreadnought wearing an anticipatory grin, Glit with his head cocked to one side in curiosity and concern, and Shockwave observing her with an almost bored interest.

She pushed the doors open, using more energy than she would have liked, and finally spared a glance back at the trio, an exhausted but satisfied smirk on her faceplates.

"Completely, definitely no comment."

Dreadnought's whoop of delight could be heard three halls away.

* * *

**Eight weeks after the Decepticon conquest of Cybertron...**

* * *

Megatron and the senior officers had been quick to capitalise on their Yuletide victory. The _Nemesis_ was now reduced to a skeleton crew of the Seacons and the Battlechargers; the only warriors who would actively enjoy the prolonged assignment on Earth. All supplies bar the standard military energon rations and repair equipment had been removed and sent to Cybertron in the last days of 2003. Most of the ground-troops had been bridged home during January of 2004, with Megatron, Starscream, Soundwave and the Constructicons remaining behind to oversee the evacuation.

Inside the newly reconstructed spacebridge chamber in Iacon, Shockwave shook his blocky cranium, and carefully stepped over the woozy fuselage of Ramjet.

"Was there a particular reason that you believed that bridging all of the flight troops from Earth in one transport was a good idea?"

Ramjet and Thrust lay curled together in a whimpering heap, with Dirge sprawled out unconscious beneath them. Blitzwing was sitting on his aft beside the bridge plate, blinking as if someone had taken a lump hammer to his processor and poured a bottle of acid in the wounds for good measure. The Combaticons had chosen to ride with the aerial troops; Blast-Off and Vortex had managed to survive the trip without going off-line, but they were being supported by Swindle and Brawl as they staggered off the bridge plate. Onslaught was following at a discreet distance, just far enough to avoid getting his armour repainted should either of his brothers decide the waste disposal racks were too far to walk to.

Dreadnought shrugged, not looking away from his screen. "We get all of the gyroscope-related tank purges over in one go?"

"Unconvincing. Your next reason, which could well, since it's _you_, be the _actual_ reason?"

The battlecruiser flashed the gunformer an evil-looking smirk. "I take my kicks where I can get 'em."

Not for the first time, the Military Operations officer silently mused on what precisely he had done to warrant Dreadnought's constant presence in his life.

2.4 microseconds worth of memory recall presented him with the exact reasons why, all of which he would have chosen to bleach out of his processor had he been given the option.

He exhaled and spared a glance at Crossfire's playpen, where the miniature gun-former was recharging peacefully, sprawled out on his front with his cuddly cyber-cat toy tucked under one arm.

"I would suggest that you remove Crossfire from the control room. Lord Megatron is not overly fond of sparklings."

Dreadnought activated the spacebridge, and leaned far back enough so that he could let his head drop over the edge of the head-rest on his chair, and regarded Shockwave with deadpan optics. "Remind me what time of orn it is?"

"1600 joors."

The battlecruiser grinned and pointed a giant finger at his companion's chest. "Therefore Shorty is officially _your_ problem, as agreed per the official schedule."

Somewhere in the back of Shockwave's processor, a random spark of electricity travelled from his CPU into his nervous system, making the fingers on his right hand curl involuntarily into claws. Unfortunately, since he was fairly sure Nightraider would have some words to say to him if he simply throttled the battlecruiser, he settled with scooping his creation out of the pen and tucking his tiny frame under his arm.

The rush of cosmic winds and the sudden clang of pedes against plates, followed by a sound best described as a 'huuuyaaaargh', indicated that the senior officers and the Elite trine had finally returned to Cybertron.

An extremely woozy-looking Thundercracker staggered out of the spacebridge gates along with Starscream, currently silent and more than a little pale of optic. Between them was an offline Skywarp, both arms looped around his trine-mate's shoulders. Judging by the energon decorating the purple and black jet's chestplates, it was he who had left the rather copious pink puddle on the bridge plate for the drones to tidy up.

Dreadnought didn't bother looking behind him. Instead he jabbed his thumb over his should in the general direction of the repair bay. "Welcome back, the 'Structies and 'Raider are on duty."

Thundercracker managed to open his mouth long enough without purging. "Thanks."

The Elite trine staggered out as Megatron and Soundwave emerged from the gates; Megatron's upper lip was curled up in mild disgust, while Soundwave remained his usual stoic self. Dumping Crossfire back in his playpen and praying the sparkling wouldn't wake up in the near future, Shockwave turned and offered his liege a sharp salute. "My lord Megatron, welcome home."

He nodded in Soundwave's direction. The Communications officer returned the gesture and took his place next to Megatron's side.

The silver gun-former swept a gaze over the control room, his optics missing nothing, before they returned to rest on Shockwave's angular cranium. "And it has been far too long. Soundwave, you are dismissed. No doubt your symbiotes will need to be reawakened after their forced stasis."

He marched towards the doorway, indicating the Military Operations officer should walk with him. "What is our current status?"

"All military areas are operating at 90%; with the return of the Earth troops..." Their voices faded as they headed out of the control room towards the war rooms.

Soundwave stared after the two gun-formers for a moment and sighed inwardly. If even half of what he had picked up from his bondmate's memories were true, Shockwave's talents had been almost wasted on Cybertron. If he had been present on the _Nemesis_ when it had left so many vorns ago, they could have taken Earth within a matter of weeks. But then, if the revelations within the other scant memories he had seen were also true, and if the situation ever did arise where Shockwave's other talents would be required...

"Gotta warn you now, 'Raider's pissed at you."

The Communications officer abandoned his musings and stared at the smirking Dreadnought.

"Clarification; required?"

Dreadnought poked at a switch and faked a frown of concern. "Seems you mentioned something about coming back here in _six_ weeks. If my maths are correct, and y'know, being an engineer an' all, they _are_, you're about two weeks later than you said you'd be. So that equals eight weeks, which equals sore and grumpy femme, which means-"

Soundwave held up a hand. "Point; taken."

"Just thought I should give ya a heads up, is all."

"Warning; unnecessary, but appreciated."

* * *

The back of the repair bay was built over two floors and backed onto one of the disused storage bays. While the triple-changers and six-changers were built for endurance and thus needed fewer repairs than most of the ground or aerial troops, when something went wrong with their systems or armour, it tended to go spectacularly wrong.

Or just entertainingly wrong, whichever happened first.

Standing inside the belly of Astrotrain's shuttle form, Hook squinted at a green slime trail emerging from a tear in the triple-changer's plating and Nightraider thumped the side of the interior wall.

"When were you going to say this infection was organic?"

The train/shuttle-former shifted uncomfortably on his wheels. "Never and working backwards from there?"

The femme jet rolled her optics. "Organic substances are the last things that should be around your system! What if this ended up on your wings? One bad landing, and what remains of your aft would get dragged before an investigation board following an autopsy. "

She folded her arms and aimed a glare at the control console in the cockpit of the shuttle. "Where, or more likely, _who_ did you get this from?"

Astrotrain cringed. "Don't know."

The crane surgeon exchanged glances with his colleague. "I believe you'll have to do better than that."

"Seriously, she said she was clean-"

_She_...oh Primus and all his little Avatars.

Nightraider's expression darkened considerably as she calculated the variables. She ran a cursory digit through the slime trail, rubbed it between her fingers, analysed the scent and stomped out of the shuttle towards the comm. system. Not bothering with privacy for once, she waited for the comm. to pick up, and then roared into it with all the subtlety of a nuclear blast.

"Thunderblast, get your barnacle-ridden aft in here _now_!"

Astrotrain tried studiously to ignore the multiple optics and optic bands now fixed on him, all of them showing absolutely no mercy. Hook strode out from the belly of the triple-changer, medical datapad in hand and a cruelly amused expression on his faceplates. "As the rumours would put it, you boldly went where many mechs, femmes, and assorted Cybertronian wildlife have gone before."

"Yeah yeah, fragging hilarious. Can't we just stick to the usual line about ports and storms?"

The femme jet turned back to her patient and folded her arms across her cockpit. "Normally I'd take you up on that, but my usual sunny good humour is currently banging its head against the nearest wall."

Blitzwing, who was sprawled out on the berth closest to them, snickered. "Since when do _you_ have sunny good humour?"

"One more word out of you, and you _will_ get an exhaust flush mouth-first."

Nightraider stomped off towards the medical stores, missing the sudden appearance of a very familiar navy and white mech through the repair bay doors.

The familiar scents of energon and cleaning fluids assaulted Soundwave's olfactory sensors as he entered the repair bay, bringing with them a host of memories. Numerous repairs to his limbs and chassis, weapons upgrades and frame upgrades on both himself and the Cassettes, so many nights spent recovering or keeping vigil over his creations, and even further back than the war, the four successful spark spawnings that gave him his family and recovering from the five miscarriages that had occurred before Ravage was successfully onlined.

Closest to the top were the two intimate occasions he and Nightraider had used the weapons upgrade ward for rather more...sensual than surgical procedures. His fuel pump and spark both pulsed slightly faster at the knowledge that his mate was close by, and that, given time and possibly some special pleading, he would be permitted to share his spark and berth with her again.

At his feet, Glit cleared his vents loudly enough to drag the Communications officer out of his musings. Soundwave quickly glanced around and down, and followed the silver feline over to an empty berth. "Cassettes; in stasis. Requirement; assistance in reactivating systems."

He pressed the eject button on his chestplates. "Ravage, Rumble, Frenzy, Laserbeak, Buzzsaw, Ratbat; eject. Operation; awakening."

The six Cassettes landed on the berth, still in their alt-modes and safely in stasis.

The SMO nodded once. "Were there any bridging issues I should be aware of?"

"Issues; none. Laserbeak, Buzzsaw and Ratbat; unaffected by gyroscopic disturbances."

Glit sighed in relief. "Thank Primus. One more purge and I'd've given in my notice."

Soundwave watched as Glit carefully connected up energon and electrical lines to each of the Cassettes' main processors and secondary fuel tanks. Fully aware of the negative effects of space-bridging on flight models, he had placed his three fliers in stasis before they had departed the _Nemesis_, with Ravage and the twins all choosing to do the same before they bridged from Nevada. The electrical jolt, combined with fresh energon, would reboot their systems with the minimum of discomfort and time.

Glowing pink energon flowed into the Cassettes' tanks, followed by the familiar crackle of electrical currents. Rumble and Frenzy were the first to transform and awaken, the red twin rubbing blearily at his faceplates while his cobalt brother stretched his arms above his head and yawned up at his creator.

"So, we back home now, boss?"

Soundwave nodded, and gently rubbed Ratbat's head at the little bat squeaked and stretched his wings out. "Affirmative."

Frenzy grinned. "Sweet. Where's 'Raider?"

Ravage yawned and uncurled his body, pausing to sniff at Glit's face in a feline gesture of gratitude. _Doing her job, if the general state of the flight troops is anything to go by._

The silver feline nodded. "I would amend that statement to 'doing her job, only with more swearing'."

Laserbeak ruffled her wings and scanned the room. _Which may explain why she isn't present?_

"Oh, she's here. Either threatening chemical mutilation or preparing an antiviral treatment, depending on whom you ask."

The femme under discussion chose that moment to emerge from the medical stores, emptying a vial of silver fluid into a sedative gun and muttering audibly. Astrotrain received about two seconds' warning before Nightraider swabbed his primary energon line with a clean buffing rag, jabbed the gun needle into the thick tubing and emptied its contents into his system.

"Yeeeoowww!"

"Suck it up, lover-mech. Oh wait, you already _did_."

She slung the rag over her shoulder, removed the used needle from the gun and dropped it into the sharps bin, barely glancing at the newest arrivals.

Soundwave folded his arms across his chestplates and waited patiently.

Three.

Two.

One.

Nightraider stopped dead. Her optics widened as she surreptitiously glanced down at her fuselage.

The near-constant pain of the past two months had suddenly dropped to an imperceptible flicker. And while medical science could do many things, the one thing no sedative could do was to fully suppress the agony of a stretched spark bond.

Only one thing could manage this.

She turned and locked optics with her bondmate.

* * *

Soundwave was the first to reach into the bond. While the physical pain for both of them had mostly been negated through psychic discipline on his side and a veritable cornucopia of drugs on hers, the emotional pain was another matter entirely, especially for his femme.

A surge of rage and hurt met his senses, most of which was simply a result from the physiological strain of the bond, but some of which was directed at him. Mentally, he winced.

The Cassettes, all watching and sensing the interplay between their creator and co-creator, simultaneously flinched.

Buzzsaw quietly leaned over to his feline sibling and snickered through the link. _Twenty credits says she kisses him, then kills him._

Ravage sniffed. _I would say the latter is more likely to happen first._

Soundwave ignored the whispers and concentrated on the bond.

Behind the femme's hurt, there was a growing sense of relief, teamed with desire, but tempered with the awareness that they couldn't be demonstrative of their affections in front of an audience.

Nightraider removed the rag from her shoulder and made a show of twisting it between her fingers.

_Follow my lead._

Soundwave nodded imperceptibly and directed a mental command to his eldest.

_Ravage. Keep your siblings occupied and away from our quarters._

The felinoid quirked an eyebrow upwards, but silently acknowledged the order.

Nightraider took that as her cue.

"Hook. Once Thunderblast gets here, do the honours please."

The Constructicon surgeon simply nodded. He was fond of his cranial unit and was quite keen on keeping it attached to his chassis.

The femme jet strode towards the repair bay doors, the rag clenched in one hand and her dental plates gritted. As she stomped past, she flung the cloth at her mate's face with a snarl.

"Eight weeks. Eight _fragging_ weeks. Do you _know_ how _long_ that is?"

With that, she flung the double doors open and strode out of the repair bay, almost barrelling into the wobbling frames of the Elite trine as she left.

Soundwave made a point of slouching his shoulders slightly before marching out after her, ignoring the sniggers from Skywarp and the disgusted snort from Starscream. Thundercracker had elected to keep his mouth shut, but the grin on his face was more than a little obvious.

Rumble and Frenzy glanced at each other and shrugged. The red Cassette twisted his head back to stare at his older brother.

"Guessin' they'll be a while. Wanna see who's around?"

Ravage glanced at Glit, who nodded silently, but with a tiny feline smirk on his faceplates. "You're all free to leave. I understand Cobalt Sentry Howlback is...available, should you wish to start your intelligence debriefing, as is Cobalt Sentry Garboil."

Ravage and Laserbeak simultaneously rolled their optics. The twins snickered, Ratbat giggled, and Buzzsaw simply glowered at the thought of Garboil.

* * *

Whether it was from the sudden rush of her catalytic converter going into overdrive from anger, or the knowledge that her bondmate was barely three strides behind her that was making her fuselage shiver as she stomped through the corridors, Nightraider honestly wasn't certain.

"Request; _listen_ to explanation?"

She clenched her fingers into fists and kept walking, feeling her optical fluid levels rise to near-overflow.

Soundwave easily matched her pace, but wisely remained outside of maximum punching distance. "Nightraider...please-"

The femme jet shot him a venomous look. "I waited for you. It _hurt_. I kept waiting."

"Your pain; not trivial."

Her spark energy flickered through the bond, producing a sensation not unlike claws being dragged down his chassis.

"Did I say anything about pain?"

The Communications officer silently pleaded for any nearby deities to give him strength as they turned into the corridors leading to the officers' quarters. His own rooms were close by and reasonably isolated; none of the senior officers had been keen on letting him reside so close to where their unconscious minds rested.

Nightraider slapped her hand over the access panel and keyed in her override code. Soundwave hovered nervously behind her and tentatively rested a hand on her shoulder.

"Nightraider..."

The F-14 paused for a moment at the contact, resisting the urge to collapse backwards against the navy mech's chest. But it was still too open in the corridors; Shockwave's drones could appear at any time, and the security system in this area of the complex tended to be selective about what it would and wouldn't record.

She shrugged off the hand, exhaled and punched in the remainder of her access code, stomping into the somewhat bare chambers and not bothering to request lights.

Soundwave followed her into the gloom, feeling somewhat apprehensive as the door slid shut and locked behind him. Whether this was an act or genuine rage, he wasn't entirely sure. The bond was clouding his senses to a degree he had never encountered, and while he had regretted every moment not spent with the femme jet, he would be slagged if he was going to be yelled at like a wayward sparkling for simply carrying out his duties.

The clang of metal against metal in front and to his left pulled him out of his musings.

"Lights, one quarter."

The darkness dispersed, revealing Nightraider perched on his desk, one leg drawn up under her chin and her arms elegantly draped over her knee. A very familiar and very filthy smile played about her lips, and the look of murder in her optics had been replaced with a look that wasn't so much 'come hither' as 'get over here NOW and I'll tell you when to stop'.

Soundwave was more than willing to obey. His optic band darkened and his face-mask retracted as he loomed over the femme jet, his hands braced on either side of her fuselage while her knee plating pressed into his torso.

"I will assume a portion of what just passed was a mere act."

One dark hand came up and traced his faceplates before gliding over his neck pistons and halting at the near-invisible seam on his chest plating.

"I'll leave you to work out exactly how much was an act. But right now..."

Her other leg briefly drew up before both limbs wrapped around his hips, pulling him as close as possible to her while their plating was still intact. Being only too happy to fulfil his femme's desires at this point, Soundwave leaned forward and pressed Nightraider's frame against the desk, rolling his hips against hers just hard enough to make her gasp.

His mouth found her neck pistons, his voice now little more than a dark purr between each kiss. "You were saying?"

Most of the femme jet's rationality had wandered off for a drink as soon as the door had locked, but she had enough control over her processor to recall the words Soundwave had spoken to her on their last night on Earth.

"Right now...I suggest we start...making up for lost time."

The navy mech smirked and made a move to lift her up. A firm hand to his chestplates halted his movements.

"The berth would be...more comfortable."

She pressed herself against him, letting him feel the heat radiating from her frame. "Frag the berth."

All of Soundwave's restraint decided to join his femme's rationality in that moment. A growl combined with a roar emerged from his vocaliser as he crushed his bondmate's frame to his and left a trailed of heated kisses against her throat he sought out and finally claimed her mouth with his for the first time in two months.

* * *

Rumble tilted his head and stared at Ravage's back as the black feline cautiously poked his head around the corner of the security corridor.

"Not like the kittykat t' be a wimp."

Frenzy lightly smacked his twin upside the head. "D'you ever listen to what Glit says?"

"Is this a trick question?"

"Nnngggh..." The blue Cassette just shook his head and rolled his optics. Buzzsaw, hovering overhead alongside Laserbeak and Ratbat, let out a brief warble of amusement.

Rumble glared upwards. "And what's got you so chirpy?"

_Glit merely gave our beloved brother a suitable warning. Howlback is looking for him._

"Yeah?"

Laserbeak chimed in. _Would you want one of the Cobalt Sentries after you? Particularly one whom you had made a...promise to?_

The red Cassette grinned expectantly. "You'd know better than we would, sis. _Would_ we?"

Ratbat giggled. Laserbeak merely glowered down at her elder sibling.

_That's for me to know, and for you to never speculate on should you wish to live._

Ravage ignored them all and silently padded out into the intersection, his nasal sensors jacked up to maximum on the quite likely chance that a certain blue and silver feline femme was out for his energon, and wouldn't bother with subtle tracking techniques.

The hallway was deserted.

Perfect. Three more halls over, and then he could lurk in the refectory for a few hours until Soundwave and Nightraider had finished getting reacquainted, and then head back and lurk in their quarters.

Unfortunately, two things happened in that moment.

"Buzzsaw!"

At the sound of the voice behind him, the golden condor's optics widened in dread.

Oh Primus, not _him_. Anyone else, any other mini-con- frag, any other Cassette-type but _him_.

Before he had the chance to brace himself and turn around, a familiar wave of sheer ecstasy tore through his and all of his siblings' sparks, driving the twins and Ravage to their knees, and sending the two condors and Ratbat into freefall.

The two seconds' blackout was all the owner of the voice and his stoic companion needed.

Buzzsaw found himself being supported by the blue and white form of Squawktalk, the younger flier almost vibrating with excitement as he helped his idol to land safely on the floor.

"I heard you were back, when were you gonna come and find us? You got a lot to catch up on, frag I don't even know where to start; you heard any of the comms chatter from Lithone? There's gotta be something in the energon there; I mean a flying moon just doesn't appear every orn-"

The young eagle suddenly found a gold and black wing slapped over his beak. Optics wide with surprise, he stared at Buzzsaw in happy anticipation.

_You have many things that can be brought to this conversation Squawktalk, but at this moment, bringing silence is the only way to ensure your continued existence. Clear?_

Squawktalk wilted slightly, but one glance upwards quickly revived his spirit. He backed off from the golden condor and clicked his beak at the scarlet femme.

"You happy to be back, Laserbeak?"

_This is humiliating._

Laserbeak was draped expertly over Garboil's fuselage, her hooked beak twisted into something which passed for an avian pout. A woozy but highly amused Ratbat hung from the Cobalt Sentry's claws as the trio hovered in mid-air. _Thank you Garboil!_

Garboil nodded politely at the little bat's words, dropped altitude enough for Rumble and Frenzy to retrieve their baby brother, and shrugged the femme's frame more securely over his back.

"Do you wish me to have simply let you fall?"

_...No._

"Then I quite fail to see what the issue is."

Laserbeak simply nodded sharply in the direction of the twins, both wearing identical smirks on their faceplates as they helped Ratbat to sit up.

"Ah. I do see your point. However, I will confess that my young acquaintance and I were merely a decoy. Your mid-air collapse however, was not anticipated, nor the collapse of your siblings."

_Decoy? What-?_

Ratbat tilted his head and scanned the intersection. _Where's Ravage gone?_

Sure enough, there was no sign of the black and silver panther. The rest of the Cassettes and Squawktalk shared a look between themselves while Garboil merely shut his optics and chuckled.

"She is a credit both to her species and the Decepticons as a whole."

At the combination of confused looks, he nodded at the scratch marks on the floor and then down the left-hand corridor. "Howlback. I believe your brother may be...otherwise engaged."

A loud growl echoed down the corridor. Rumble and Frenzy were the first to stick their heads round the corner, just long enough to get a look at the scene and then collapse laughing. The other Cassettes followed suit, all of them having the decency to keep their amusement hidden.

Ravage was sitting bolt upright, red optics wide and a heavy set of scratches across his faceplates as Howlback's smaller frame stalked around his, her dental plates bared and optics narrowed.

Ratbat was the first to speak. _What's she doing?_

Laserbeak rolled off of her erstwhile suitor's back and ruffled her wings. _She's, ah...missed Ravage, and would like to demonstrate that to him in some way that may involve grievous bodily harm._

_Ooooh. Should we maybe go the other way and find Soundwave?_

_Perhaps not if that blackout was anything to go by. I would suggest we make our way to the refectory, double-time._

The little bat frowned. _What's double-time?_

Squawktalk finally chipped in. "It means really really fast, like Buzzsaw!"

The golden condor clenched his claws together and glared at the eagle. _Why are you still saying words?_

"I thought we were in a new conversation?"

Buzzsaw just hung his head and groaned.

* * *

This could go one of two ways. Either Howlback was going to kill him slowly and intimately, or she was about to do something else to him slowly and intimately. Right now, it was impossible to tell.

Ravage glared at his siblings and their two companions as they flew and trudged across the intersection, all smirking, or, in the case of the twins, sniggering into their fists.

A message rolled across Rumble and Frenzy's HUDs. _You are __**not**__ leaving me here._

The twins paused and waited while the fliers passed by, waving them on to the refectory with their hands and a bellowed promise to meet up in five.

Ostensibly out of Howlback's line of sight, Frenzy folded his armed across his chestplates and grinned. _What, the fearless Ravage can't deal with one pussycat?_

_It's been four million years and she's never been what I would call predictable._

Rumble exchanged a Look with his twin before responding. _And you're seriously askin' __**us**__ for help?_

_I am fully aware of the flaws in this plan. Right now, it is the only one I have._

The femme felinoid chose that moment to close the gap between them and nuzzled Ravage's face, adding in a loud purr for good measure.

Frenzy just chuckled out loud. _I can see what's happenin'._

Rumble picked up the reference immediately. _What?_

_And they don't have a clue._

_Who?_

The black and silver Cassette simply gave them a glare of death. _I hate you both._

His brothers simply exchanged smirks and pelted off down the corridor howling with laughter.

Ravage sighed briefly and quickly scanned the corridor before dropping the turbo-fox-in-headlights expression and returning his attention to the lithe frame wrapped around his own. He let his muzzle drop against the back of Howlback's neck just enough to press her head against his shoulder and rest the side of his cheek-plate against her audial, praying he wasn't about to feel claws across his face again.

Howlback merely purred into his shoulder and glanced briefly at the space where the twins had been standing. "And now that our audience has departed, might I suggest we continue our assignation in a more secluded location?"

Ravage growled, feeling his energon heating up. _Where would you suggest?_

The turquoise and silver femme detached herself from his frame and slunk a few paces up the corridor. "I would suggest your quarters, but judging by your collapse and their shared absence, I believe your creator and his bondmate have already beaten us to it."

_And the next best place?_

Howlback simply raised an elegant brow. "Failing the first suggestion, anywhere with a door and a lock."

Ravage caught up with her, deliberately pressing his frame against her flank._ I believe that can be arranged._

* * *

Joints creaking with exhaustion, Nightraider managed to close the latch on her pelvic plating, rolled over and slung her leg across her bondmate's hips, idly studying the wreckage of the room.

"You didn't need that desk for anything, right?"

Soundwave traced the edges of the femme's wings with a finger. "Only for the function it served two joors previously. And I feel certain that I can locate a replacement which offers similar angles."

"Similar, but not precisely the same."

The Communications officer let his hand slide lower. "I would be prepared to test any replacements thoroughly, if you so desire."

Nightraider purred slightly as the hand rested against her hip plating, fingers tracing patterns against the dented metal. "I will take you up on that offer after I get an apology, and after I remember how my limbs work."

Ah.

Soundwave lifted his torso upwards enough to sit up at the head of the berth, Nightraider shifting a little to allow him movement before she lay back down and rested her head against his tape deck partition.

"Six weeks was what I had promised you. It was not necessarily a guarantee of what would happen."

The femme jet sighed. "I know. But it would've been nice to hear it from _you_ rather than just as a general status update."

"I did not wish to show any...inclination towards you that would have revealed our relationship."

"For the so-called optics and audials of the Deceptions, you really don't pay attention to gossip."

It was Soundwave's turn to sigh. "Gossip in this case referring to whom?"

"Mmmmmh, put it this way, Dreadnought has no CPU/vocaliser filter. By the time Strika had asked me to report to her, all she did was roll her optics, ask if what Dreadnought had been spreading about Darkmount was true, congratulated me and then told me to get the frag out of her office."

"So the entire army is aware of our shared status."

"Honestly, I'm slightly amazed you didn't get asked about it. Or use it to get, I dunno, an early transfer home?"

The navy mech traced the edges of the F-14's cockpit with a fingertip. "I did not want to risk Lord Megatron's ire with any demands regarding a status amendment that he did not fully condone."

Nightraider batted her mech's hand away as she managed to sit up and turned to face him. "Oh really? What would he have done, shot you?"

A fear-tainted memory flickered across the bond. Nightraider's optics widened.

"...He actually _threatened_ you?"

"Yes."

"Ok. That's...not what I'd call reassuring."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the sleeping quarters. Soundwave eventually leaned forward, resting his helm against his femme's.

"I chose these two extra weeks of pain, rather than risk your life and those of my creations. Was that so unreasonable?"

Nightraider closed her optics and leaned a little further forward, not quite close enough to kiss him but enough to feel the heat radiating from his faceplates.

"If you have abandonment issues, then yes. But the whole acting as a life-preserver thing?"

She opened her optics and flashed him a smirk. "I could be inclined to forgive you."

Soundwave's visor darkened. Raising himself onto his knees, he loomed over the femme jet and carefully traced his fingers over her cheekplates. Nightraider let her head fall back as both hands began to sneak a little lower, fingertips brushing over the pistons at the back of her neck.

The navy mech's usual monotone voice dropped to a level which sounded like the living embodiment of Very Bad and Massively Fun Things. "I believe 'reclined' would be preferable to 'inclined'. Unless you would prefer to lead this time?"

Nightraider cracked open one optic, her retort just ready to leave her vocaliser…

* * *

-BSSSSSSSHT- "_Yo, boss!_"

Both Transformers paused. Nightraider visibly deflated and leaned back with a sigh. Soundwave's shoulders slumped.

Rumble, utterly undeterred by the comm. silence, ploughed happily onwards.

"_Can someone get the door? Frenz' an' me got baggage._"

Ravage's psychic tones wafted through the speaker, exhaustion colouring the customary frustration in his voice when dealing with his younger brothers. _I am not baggage._

Frenzy sniggered. "_Says the big bad kittykat who can't walk under his own steam._"

The F-14 blinked and cleared her vocaliser with a cough, finally breaking the silence. "Frenzy, what do you mean, Ravage can't walk under his own steam?"

She glanced to her side and felt a small burst of satisfaction. Soundwave was already standing at the door, punching in his override code. As the door opened, he knelt down and carefully scooped Ravage's limp black and silver frame out of the twins' grasp into his arms. Scrapes of turquoise and silver paint marred his frame, along with more than a few gashes and bite marks. Oddly enough, the felinoid didn't look either remotely upset or in pain; instead, the waves of smugness radiating from him were almost palpable.

The twins sauntered into the sleeping quarters, neither looking particularly bothered about their elder sibling's condition. Buzzsaw and a disgruntled Laserbeak soared through the doorway and took up their customary perches on the side of the berth, one on each side of the femme jet.

Nightraider made a brief move to greet the twin condors before a flash of purple and gold shot through the doorway and attached itself to her cockpit, screeching all the while.

Laserbeak warbled in glee and stared up at her co-creator. _He's missed you. As have we all._

In the femme jet's arms, Ratbat was busy trying to meld himself into the glass canopy covering her chestplates. The screech of delight had managed to calm down long enough to reform into coherent speech.

Or as much coherent speech as the little bat could manage with simply squealing, _ImissedyouImissedyouImissedy ouImissedyou_ at the top of his vocaliser.

She smiled and let Ratbat cuddle into her as much as he needed, while she rested her hands against the scarlet and golden condors' heads, earning a happy trill from both.

Rumble and Frenzy quietly sidled up to the berth and wrapped their arms around one of their co-creator's leg plating in not-so-innocent happiness. The red Cassette beamed up at the jet.

"Missed us?"

Nightraider returned the smirk and patted Frenzy on the head. "Like a dose of cosmic rust."

"Awww, shucks." Rumble pretended to blush and settled with giggling.

The giggling became more pronounced as Soundwave joined his family on the berth, Ravage's frame still cradled tenderly in his arms. The black Cassette offered an exhausted growl to his siblings and a far more contented purr to Nightraider as she gently scratched him under his chin and gave his injuries a cursory glance.

_It is good to see you once again, Femme CMO. Your presence in the link has been sorely missed._

Soundwave scanned his eldest creation's CPU, and inwardly sighed with relief as he picked up only contentment and the aforementioned smugness. In fact, it was a combination of the two that seemed rather familiar, the kind that only came about as a result of…

The Communications officer raised an eyebrow. "You and Howlback reunited."

"If that's what we're callin' it now, then yeah, they did." Rumble's grin took up half his face.

"Rumble, silence."

"But no energon lines ripped bro. Maybe she's not as hot for ya as we thought?"

"And you, Frenzy."

Buzzsaw finally decided to intervene on his brother's behalf. _Or perhaps she was so relieved to…reunite with him that she didn't __**want**__ to remove any of his vital fluids._

Ratbat frowned as he peeled himself off of Nightraider's cockpit. _Why would she want to remove any vital fluids? Howlback's not a bat!_

_You do know that I can still hear all of you?_

Never one to turn down an opportunity to tease any of her elder siblings, Laserbeak cawed and gently butted Ravage's head with her beak. _So? Were your injuries worth it?_

The felinoid stared at his sister and smirked.

_As my dear twin hellions of brothers would put it, I regret nothing._

Soundwave and Nightraider simply shared a Look.

* * *

Unseen and unheard by his creations as they continued to bicker, the navy mech opened the solitary bond between himself and his mate.

_I would call this an average evening for them. You…do not regret your choice?_

The last remnants of physical pain departed from Nightraider's spark as she heard his words. The emotional hurt caused by her mate's delayed return would no doubt take longer to heal, but they had many more vorns on a Decepticon-controlled Cybertron to heal their respective wounds and make up for lost time.

She smiled, one meant only for him. _Never._

_I love you._

_I know._

* * *

END


	14. Because you asked

A/N: No, it's not a new chapter, but a new fic! As quite a few people have asked, 'Hora Spissisima' - aka the sequel to 'Presents' - is now up. Cookie to anyone who knows what the title means!

Mel


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